Butterfly Wings
by Once Loved
Summary: Once titled: Where Do You Go? Casey's been working with the squad nearly three years now. Things are going well. One night changes everthing, however, when things hit a little too close to home.
1. Disclaimer & Summary

Butterfly Wings

Fic: SVU. Casey, Elliot, Olivia- main characters. (And for the first few chapters, an MU of my own, Leslie.)

Author: K.

Rating: M

Reviews: Definately. If you don't like it, say so. Please and thanks.

Summary: Casey's been working with the squad nearly three years now. She's won cases, she's lost cases, but things are generally going good in her life. She's even dating someone fantastic. One night changes everything, however, when an abuse victim hits a little too close to home. Now, her life has changed into a game of hide-and-seek in which Olivia must be her saviour and confidant. From the graceful wings of a butterfly, Casey's life has turned into a violent hurricane of confusion as she is forced to deal with something she never thought would happen to her. The question that remains, though, is Can Olivia save her from her nightmares in time to save her from herself?

Disclaimer: The characters from the TV show are so not mine! Me no claimie... you no sue-me. Alright? Alright. nod


	2. Secrets Are Very Well Kept

Chapter One: Secrets Are Very Well Kept

Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak awoke Saturday morning to the ringing of her cell phone. Groggily, she pulled the silver flip phone from the drawer by her bed and answered it. "Hello," she muttered out.

Donald Cragen of the Special Victims Unit in Manhattan was on the other end. "Don, hi," she said, instantly alert. If he called, it meant only one thing: the suspect in the serial rapes had been found and was at the precinct. "No, I can be there in twenty minutes, no problems."

Casey shut the phone and swung her bare legs out of bed. She looked down at her pale flesh with a roll of her eyes. She really needed a tan. Standing up, she felt herr thin slip of a gown cover more of her calves and she walked over to her closet feeling rather naked. Grabbing a suit, she did her best at throwing it on in the near darkness. "Ow," she muttered, "crap." Her toes throbbed from the stubbing they had just received. Earlier that week, Steven, her boyfriend had bought a new dresser since between the two of them, the clothes were piling up around the room. The dresser did make it look neat- which was something Casey thouroughly enjoyed, however, she still was not used to the bulk in the dark.

Naturally, her noise had startled Steven out of his sleep and he sat up and turned the lights on. "Casey, where are you going?" he asked.

She blinked at the sudden light. "I have to go to the precinct," she said, giving him the short hand version of it. By now, Steven had been with her long enough to know what she meant and she watched as he nodded and lay back down. "I'll be home later tonight. Bye, baby," she added with a smile as she buttoned her navy blouse and shrugged her jacket on. Grabbing her briefcase, she hurried out the door, shutting it behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, she was paying a taxi cab driver just outside of the precinct. "Thanks," she said with a friendly nod as she turned and walked up the steps to the 1-6 doors.

"Where?" was all she asked Fin and Munch as she walked in.

Just then, Oliva Benson walked out of a side door. "Hey, Case," she greeted.

"Hey, Liv," Casey returned, "so you think you've got the guy?"

"Yeah," Olivia gave an affirmative nod, "Doc Huang and El are in there right now. Huang wanted an evaluation just to double check, and El wanted to indimidate the shit out of the guy."

"Good for him."

Munch and Fin both let out a little whoop of agreement. Olivia laughed lightly and nodded her head in agreement.

Casey saw Olivia's eyes furrow. "You look a little frazzled. Did we wake you?"

"Yeah, but's it's a good thing. I don't think I would have been up ever if you hadn't called."

"That tired?" Olivia looked at her inquisitively.

"I guess. It's a new thing." Casey blushed slightly and instinctively wrapped her left arm around her middle, "Must be working too hard." She gave a small chuckle and shook her head.

Olivia nodded seeming to take that excuse for now. "I think this case has gotten us all a little riled up. I mean, the guy went after lawyers and cops for chissake."

Casey nodded solemnly. That had certainly been frightening. Steve had promised to kill any guy who tried to harm her, and Casey knew he'd be good on that threat, but she had been worried about Olivia. The woman lived alone and had nothing but her self and her gun. Not that she couldn't do damage that way, but Casey still worried. As a result, she found herself offering Olivia to go to dinners or simply stay at her apartment after work. Sometimes, usually right after some other cop had reported a rape, the brunette detective would accept. Others, she denied with a soft smile on her lips.

Today, Casey noticed Olivia seemed more perky and free. A weight of worry had been lifted from her shoulders- at least as long as the guy was in one of the cold, gray interrogation rooms. As soon as he was back out on the street, Casey knew everyone would be worried again, and the police didn't have enough to arrest him. They might in a few minutes when they asked the guy for his alliby. If it didn't check out, he was in a world of shit. 'Good,' Casey thought, 'he deserves it.'

The color must have drained from her face quite quickly for the next thing she knew, Olivia was holding the dizzy prosecuter up by her shoulders. "Case, you alright, you look like you're about to faint." Casey could feel the breath on her face, but it was so vague, like everything was swimming in and out of her mind. One second, it was there, the next, it was gone.

She blinked violently before pressing a hand to her head. "Excuse me a moment," she said as she turned from Olivia's grasp and headed for the bathrooms.

There, she found an empty stall and, leaning over the rim of the toliet, proceeded to vomit, holding her reddish hair back with one hand, the other clutching her stomach. The bathroom door opened and closed. Casey didn't look up. She threw up again just as a hand wrapped about her hair, pulling it out of the way for her. Her own hand released her locks and found her other hand at her stomach. Her nails dug into her skin as she vomitted again.

Finished, Casey reached over and flushed the toliet before standing and offering a weak smile to Olivia. She moved to the sink and washed her mouth and rinsed it with the cold water coming from the tap. "Thanks," she murmured as she patted her flesh dry with the light brown paper towel.

"You comin' down with something, prosecuter?" Olivia asked with a concerned tone.

Casey felt herself shake her head before she was aware that it was her doing it. "No, detective, I'm alright. I guess that's just my way of getting the idea of another disgusting rapist out of my head."

Olivia nodded, an understanding look playing on her visage.

"I feel better now," she added, "When will you join your partner?"

"I'll go in there now. Huang's pro'lly done with his evaluations. If not, I really wouldn't mind listening into the rest of his psych.," Olivia answered, "why don't you come, too? You'll have to listen eventually. I'm sure he's gonna lawyer up soon, as well. "

Casey nodded. What was new? "Well, I kind of hope he does," she mused, "if this is our guy, it'll be a pretty open and shut case. I'll have to get you warrents for DNA tests before I can get you an arrest warrent, but from everything I hear..." The woman sounded hopeful. The added weight on all of their minds that either they or someone they know was likely to be next was not doing them any favors. "If Huang's sure, I'll call that in for you. Or better yet, offer him a soda."

A glint twinkled in Olvia's eye as she laughed. "I swear, Miss ADA you think more like a detective everyday."


	3. The Truth Hurts

Chapter Two: The Truth Hurts 

"Casey," Cragen's voice came out sharper this time, much sharper than he had intended, but the woman was not paying attention. "Casey!"

The ADA turned to look at the Captain of the 1-6 precinct. Her eyes were a little dazed, a small frown played at her lips. Her head was very clearly elsewhere at the moment, but she surprised Cragen when she said, "You'll need a warrent for his house. Give me an hour." With that, she walked out of the narrow room that separated the two interragation rooms from each other.

For the past half hour, she and Donald Cragen had been listening in on two detectives' interview with the suspect in twelve rape cases. In none had he left any form of trace, but the detectives' hard work had dug up some evidence from the five cases he was convicted of seven years ago. Out on parol, and the man was already at it again. It didn't shock Casey like it used to. Sometimes, she wished it did, but lately nothing seemed to bother her. She was too numb, and she knew people were starting to notice. Honestly, she tried her best to hide and to change it, but she couldn't. Maybe, she was beginning to think, maybe she was not cut out for this job. But, things had been going so well.

She left the bullpen in relative peace, Fin and Munch looking up from their case to see if she was going to give them an afirmative nod or a doubtful shake of the head. Naturally, she nodded. This was going to be an open and shut case. The only thing the man hadn't done was confess to the rapes- and the detectives hadn't even brought him in for that. Casey Novak was rather thrilled at how well this case was going, but she couldn't help but feel the sinking feeling in her stomach that it would all turn south pretty quickly.

Thirty-five minutes later, Casey was in her car driving through rush hour traffic to drop off a warrent. She'd called in a favour since the man profiled a high flight risk thanks to George Huang's evaluation and she did not want to wait until the morning before they could go through his house. Olivia and Elliot would have to let him go if they weren't going to arrest him. She thought they had enough to arrest him on, but George was convinced he was working with someone else and the guy was just stupid enough to lead the detectives to him. As usual, Huang was right and Fin and Munch had taken a break from their case- an easy statutory rape where the mother was freaking out about her fifteen year old sleeping with men twice her age- and tailled him. She hadn't heard word from them, but by now she had learned not to expect to since it was easier if she was not reported every single detail. That, and the last time she had asked, John Munch had given her a half-hour description of his sandwich. It only took her once.

Olivia and Elliot were due to meet her at his house with a few other cops. Casey looked at her car clock. They were probably already there. Casey had told them to wait for her so his lawyer couldn't gripe about it later, she hoped the detectives would listen for once.

Her phone rang and she startled from her thoughts. "Casey Novak, ADA," she said into the speaker portion after flipping the silver top off. A familiar voice answered back. "No, don't touch anything," she replied, "I want to see this for myself."

She hung up the phone before indicating left. Benson had said that the door was already broken and cracked and hanging off its hinges. They had gone in to make sure everything was alright. She reasoned in her head that they had the right to do that. What they had found would hold up in court unless they got an ass of a judge. Maxwell had apparently already been inside burning photos of the women he had brutally raped when they caught him.

Maxwell Jakeson was already sitting in a police car when she pulled up across the street. Olivia was waiting outside on the stoop rubbing her hands against the cold. "Detective," Casey called out practically running to the stoop, "please, explain." She was shaking on the inside, afraid by what Olivia had meant earlier by 'Jackson knows you... intimately.'

She looked at the door, wide-eyed. It was worse than how Olivia had described it to her in such brief detail. Pieces of wood scattered the ground where part of the frame had been kicked off. Someone needed to get in the house, and in a hurry. Her brow furrowed in confussion as she tried to think of who and why. Olivia's voice snapped her back to reality. It was the detectives' jobs to find her that information. She'd have to wait until then.

"Casey," Olivia breathed, "why didn't you say anything?"

The ADA looked confused as her brow furrowed and she cocked her head. "What do you mean? Let me see."

"Casey," she tried again, "I don't know..." She hung her head a little but made way for the woman to make her way in.

Novak swallowed and shut her eyes for a moment. She thought maybe the guy was stalking her, making her his next victim? That didn't sound too unusual, people went after cops and lawyers more often than anyone wanted to admit, and this guy specialized in taking down those people. She felt Olivia next to her, her cool hand on her arm. With the detective walking next to her, she made her way through the house and into a room. When she got there, she almost threw up. The room was completely decorated and dedicated to one thing... her. "Oh my god," she could barely get it out.

He had a shelf with several things on display. She moved to the shelf and, without touching anything, looked at what he had on display. Her eyes squinted as she tried to block it out, and frightened of her own reactions, she turned and moved to the walls decorated by pictures of her. Some were of her walking down the street, others, she was in the bedroom of her apartment getting ready for bed. Most of them, however, she remembered having someone take the picture. Her legs felt weak as she bent a little to look at one.

Casey Novak was tied the the headboard of her bed, stripped naked. Her eyes were wide in terror and she looked like she had been thrashing violently. Bruises were just beginning to peak through her flesh and wounds had been cut freshly into her body.

Her head moved only slightly to look at the one next to it.

That one was very similar except one masked man, still with a shirt on and pants- though unzipped- lay atop her. Here, in the room, Casey's head throbbed. She could hear his grunts and moans as he ejactulated in her more times than she could keep track of.

"No, no, no, no, no," she repeated over and over, shaking her head. Her feet stumbled around until her body felt the safety of falling into Detective Elliot Stabler's arms. She leaned into his chest and cried for a few minutes before realizing where she was. Unsteadily, she retreated from him and looked around, a befuddled look on her face.

She bit her lip a little too hard.

"Come on, Case," Olivia said, "let me drive you home."

Casey nodded and took Benson's arm and followed her out of the house. The walk to the car was silent, and Olivia made sure the barely moving ADA was seated securely before she turned to her, her soft brown eyes searching the prosecutor. "Case, why didn't you tell us when it happened?" she asked in a very gentle way.

Her voice was soft, deralict. "I couldn't. I'm so sorry," she whispered. Her hand reached up to wipe away the tears, "I didn't know it was him, either."

Olivia started up the car and pulled away. "Wanna talk?" she asked; Casey shook her head. "Alright."

After several long, slow minutes of driving through rush hour traffic towards the upper side of town, the woman looked at the detective, absolute terror in her eyes. "Liv?"

"Yeah, hun?"

"I'm scared."

"Don't you worry, okay? We have him for this. The little bastard will go down for what he did to you and all those other women."

Casey didn't seem to hear her. She was off in her own little world, retreating slowly to a safe place. "Liv, I'm pregnant, and Steven and I don't have sex." She leaned her head against the car window; God, she thought she was going to be sick.

Olivia turned and stared at the councilor, speechless.

"Pull over, please, Liv, in the next parking lot." Casey wanted to talk and Olivia clearly understood that because she did as she was asked.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Olivia turned off the engine and shifted in her seat. "How far are you?" she asked. It was an important question that would help the detective determine when the rape occured.

"Next week is my four month mark," Casey answered looking away from the detective.

"I'm so lost," she confessed, "I don't know what to do. I always thought my baby would come from love into a happy family, but instead, it came from the monster you arrested today." She wiped the tears gathering on her cheeks away. "I'm obviously not having an abortion, but I don't know if I can take care of a child right now and my father would shoot me if I gave his grandbaby away regardless of the father."

Finally, she turned her head to face the detective. Her face was so broken that Casey nearly cried out that she was sorry for saying anything, but the woman just sat there, shocked and unable to process anything. "Olivia, I'm sorry." The words were toneless except for the hint of sorrow.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Olivia said after a heartbreaking silence, "you obviously fought like Hell to get out of there."

"No," Casey interrupted, "I mean, what I said, it upset you. I'm sorry."

Once more, Olivia shook her head. "Case, you were raped. That's going to upset the entire squad, and that bastard will be in jail for a very long time, alright? Look at me and tell me alright."

"Alright," the ADA answered turning her eyes up to Olivia.

"Good."

Olivia's phone rang just then. "Benson," a pause, "shit! You're kidding," another pause, "Get down to the precinct. I'll be there as soon as I drop Casey off," yet again, a pause, "No, Elliot, I'm not going to. She's been through enough today."

Casey clued in. "What?" she asked, "what's going on?"

Olivia hung up the phone and shook her head indicating that she wasn't going to say.

"Olivia, tell me, please, what's going on? What did Stabler find?"


	4. Delirium

Chapter Three: Delirium 

Casey smiled softly at Olivia as the brunette pulled the car up in front of her apartment building. The conversation had gone quite and museless after Elliot's call. Casey had tried the detective a few timesabout Stabler's call but had come up with the same answer each time. "I'll let you know in a few days, sooner if anything comes of it. But, Casey, you can't prosecute a case you're a victim in." It had been said so sweetly and softly that the red-head couldn't think of anything to say in reply except to choke back her tears. After a while, she had simply contented herself with staring out the window in silence. The trip had gone quickly, only a fifteen minute drive, but to Casey it felt like it took forever. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Olivia much less strike up a conversation. She was grateful that the detective seemed to understand, though Casey did wonder what had upset the woman earlier.

"You want me to come up with you?" she asked jolting Casey from her reflections.

Casey shook her head. "I'm fine," she answered numbly. The emotion had vanished from her leaving behind an eerie sort of melody in place of her usual demanding tones. "Beside, I think it might be best to be alone."

"Steven knows, then?"

"No." She hesitated. "He's not going to be home for a while. I'll have to tell him later, won't I?" She turned back to the window for a moment before looking at the detective with a sad, curious look.

Olivia nodded slowly. "Yeah, you will," came the response Casey had expected, "Call me, councilor if you need anything."

"Alright, thanks." Casey opened the door to her car and stepped out. The breeze was cool even for this time of day and it wrapped around her body. She shivered more than she should have for the breeze. It wasn't that bad, the shiver was more from something else that the woman couldn't identify. Olivia was about to do the same when Casey shook her head. "It'll be a long drdive back to the precinct and an even longer walk. I'll get my car tomorrow."

Olivia nodded and smiled. "Alright, sweetheart, thanks." She moved to Casey and wrapped her arms about her body. Instantly, the prosecutor felt warm and safe. She knew Olivia was right about that bastard going down for raping her, but that sinking feeling hadn't gone away.

The woman pulled away and walked stiffly to the building door. She could feel Olivia's eyes on her as she punched in the access code. Only when she had completely disappeared around the bend and was halfway up the stairs did she allow the tears to flow even more strongly than when she had first seen the pictures in that bastard's house. Casey collapsed to the floor, silent tears floating heavily down her cheeks leaving red, jagged lines down her semi-tanned skin.

-/-

She was still sobbing when she opened the door to her apartment. It was tidy, neat, with modern furniture and a large television and stereo she never watched or listened to. Aside from that, it was completely empty of life. Steven would be at work for another three hours or so.

Tossing her bag on the couch, Casey flopped down, exhausted. Her eyes felt heavy and her muscles felt far too used. It was as though all her strength had been yanked from her in one very sudden movement. Slowly, her eyes closed and she felt herself nodding off, slipping into the realms of deep sleep. With one hard thunk, she fell onto the rugged wooden floor but even that didn't wake her up. What did, however, was her piercing screams and a knocking on her door.

Casey sat up, the screams twisting into sobbing and tears. Blood had begun to leak through her light gray skirt, her hair was messy, and her arms and neck were bleeding where she had scratched herself in her sleep. The knocks stopped and a kick snapped the door open, two policemen rushing in. She stared up at them, shaking and noticed Olivia and Elliot behind them. Both people went straight to Casey, no questions asked.

"Casey," Elliot said wrapping an arm around Casey's back, "Casey, it's alright. Liv and I are here. Nothing's happening." He shushed her and rocked her back and forth a few times, the two police officers looking a little lost and confused. "Casey, tell Liv and me what happened, please."

The woman looked to Elliot and burried here face in his shoulder. "I fell asleep. I was so tired. Then, it all came back to me. Everything. El, I was so afraid," she mumbled into his jacket.

"Okay. It's okay now. Case," Olivia was pleading, "you're bleeding. Let me and El take you to the hospital. I think there might be something wrong with the baby."

"Baby?" Elliot's voice crossed the din that was fogging Casey's brain. It had enveloped her thickly and without mercy. She felt herself falling once more but knew that she was still in Elliot's arms.

Her head nodded although she didn't feel like she could control it. "My baby," she muttered and struggled to stand using Elliot's shoulders as leverage. She fell into Olivia's arms and stumbled to the door, her feet barely able to pick up. The blackness in the corners of her vision began to spread until it took over her sight wholly. She felt herself falling but never felt herself hitting the floor.

-/-

Her eyes blinked open to the sounds of people talking in hushed voices. She looked around, confused. Three people were huddled together at the end of her bed, their backs were to the woman, but she recognized Benson and Stabler immediately. A doctor was standing with them flipping through papers on a clipboard. She stayed quite for a moment, but the doctor must have noticed the change in the monitor at her side for he looked up at her and smiled. "Well good morning," he said in an unnaturally cheerful voice.

Instantly, her hands went to her stomch and she pressed down lightly on the tiny bump that had formed beneath her rib-cage. She felt Olivia's eyes on her and looked at the detectives. All three were watching her closely. "You love that baby, don't you?" Detective Benson asked with a smile.

"It's my baby. I'm supposed to love it, no matter what, right?" Casey reply came softly, hesitantly. She didn't know what she would have thought if she had lost it. She thought maybe she would be relieved, she could press the thought of her rapist from her mind. But then, she could have felt sorrow. The same dread and sorrow she felt when she had checked her stomach only moments before. Even now, knowing that the child was safe, she couldn't decide if she was relieved or frightened. All she knew was that depsite half of its genes coming from a power-hungry man, half of that baby was made up of her. It was that half she loved already, without thinking about it. The other half terrified her. Mutely, she wondered if she could ever accept the fact that this child, her child, was half monster. But was it? Casey Novak shook her head. She had argued this so many times in court, so many times she had convinced a jury that the rapists didn't act because of genes, but because of a choice. That meant, by her own convictions, the child wasn't half monster. Not yet, and if she raised it right, not ever. It was fully human, perfect in every human manner.

Her head shook again. That was the answer. That was the answer she argued daily to others. Now it was an argument she'd be having with herself. So much thought directed on the fact that violence was passed genetically. She just hoped that no one would ever prove it. "I do," she said again with more conviction as her fingers curled around the sheet over her torso, "I love my baby."

The woman standing nodded her head solemnly. Casey could tell she was thinking about something, trying to work out her own questions in her head. "I'm glad," Olivia murmured.

It was clear she didn't know where she wanted to go with the questions that both detectives were bound to ask. Elliot took over where Olivia faltered. Casey thought they were good partners for that. "Case, wanna tell us what happened?" he asked with a tilt of his head that was so uncharacteristic of him.

"Liv dropped me off home. I went inside and dropped off. Everything was so clear it was as if it was real, as if it were happening again," the prosecutor dropped her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her body was shaking violently, her fingers without the ability to grip the sheet any longer.

Olivia took cue and squatted near Casey's bed. She felt the older woman's fingers twist around her own and give them a tight squeeze. "What happened? Tell us everything you remember." Casey shook her head. Even as she did so, the red-head knew that it wouldn't help a case at all. "Come on, Case. You can do it. Your associate will put this guy in jail for a hell of a long time already, but you know as well as I that if you can give details it'll solidify everything."

That was Casey's cue. The details wouldn't matter. A jury had the pictures of her rape and every other woman's. There was something the detectives were leaving out. A judge would arleady put the bastard away for the longest time the law would allow. Her shaking stopped, if only long enough for her to look between the two with one of her courtroom looks. "What are you not telling me?" she asked staring at them hard.

Elliot cleared his throat. "We found a video. He must have set it up before he raped you."

Her head shook violently. "No," she said hoarsely, "There were two." Olivia looked up at Elliot with one of her 'Oh God' looks.

"Casey." Elliot's voice was unconvinced. "You are on the same page as we are, right?"

"You want to know how I know it was him, Maxwell, in the picture" she said, "I'm damn sure and nothing can alter my conviction." She closed her eyes, the tears starting to flow harder. "How much of the tape did you watch?"

"We couldn't watch all of it. Cragen, Fin, and Munch are all trying to struggle through it. I can't imagine they've gotten very far or else they would have called," Elliot answered, "maybe the first fifteen minutes. Liv and I left just after he finished explaining what he was going to do. You were asleep in the background. We thought maybe you hadn't woken up yet, or else he'd knocked you out."

Casey's face screwed up. "His partner's a woman," she managed through choking sobs, "she raped me, but I don't think she got me pregnant." Her hand gripped Olivia's almost too tightly. She could see the look of pain on the older detective's face, but Olivia didn't say anything and Casey couldn't quite bring herself to let go. Her head twisted to the side in a futile attempt to hid the weakened, demortalized look on her face.

"I understand," Olivia said softly, "And I don't blame you for not saying anything. Sometimes, a woman..."

"Liv, please," Casey interrupted, "I know. Not only have I overheard you giving the speech, but I've given it a few time myself. I thought it was bad to say, but it's worse to hear. At least for me. So, please."

Olivia nodded. "Alright. Now, you know I have to ask more questions."

"I know."

"What do you remember about the woman?"

"Taller than me. Much taller. Six foot, maybe," Casey said still not looking at any faces, "Light brown hair, long. Same color as yours, Liv, but a little longer than mine. She had dark brown eyes, but they could have been contacts. He was wearing a mask. She wasn't." She looked to the detectives. The implications of that were amazing. "I kind of think she was incharge," Casey added quitely, putting voice to the thoughts of all three. "When they let me go, I'll meet you at the precinct. I'll give a description to the sketch artist. Unless you've found her, too, detectives."

"No, we didn't know he was working with a woman." Elliot sat down in the chair a few feet away. Casey watched him intently. He was wearing the inquistive look that told the woman to ask the questions on her mind that must have been clearly etched on her face.

She bit her tongue as long as she could, but eventually she had to ask. "What happens now?" she asked. It was a much deeper question than that. She knew what happened with the trial, she knew what happened for her testimony. She knew she would likely testify against the man. Hearing from an ADA would nail the jury, no matter what defense the bastard's lawyer cooked up.

"We're here for you no matter what," Olivia answered, "the entire squad. Casey, we can't let you know about any more of the case, but if you need a place to stay, I am sure all of us have open doors."

That brought Casey to her next question. "Where's Steven?"

Elliot shook his head. "As far as we know, he hasn't shown up. I wish I could say he had, but, I can't." He hesitated. "Casey, is something going on between you two?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "We're fine. I don't know why. Maybe he was scared. Can I call him?"

"I tried," this time, Olivia's voice met her ears, "His phone's off. Maybe he's at work."

"Maybe." Casey's face fell. She could feel it falling, could feel the muscles moving down into a disconcerted frown. Before Olivia or Elliot could press, she continued. "Can I talk to Olivia alone?"

Elliot and Olivia exchanged looks. Olivia's eyes went wide for a moment before twisting back to neutral. She nodded to her partner and Elliot got up to leave. When the door closed behind him and the doctor, Casey turned to the brunette. "I... uh... I upset you the other day," she stammered, for once at a loss for words.

"It's alright," she said shaking Casey's hand with her own back and forht a few times.

Casey was not convinced. "What happened to you that you only looked like that when I said I was pregnant." Her brow furrowed again. "Olivia, I know I'm not as familiar with you as Alex was. I know I'll never be. Yes, I've made friends, even family with the squad, and I trust all of you, and I hope you all trust me. I know I don't know you as well as Elliot. But, please, I know something is up, at least confirm that."

Eyes still, the detective looked at the prosecutor. "I couldn't help but wonder if this is anything like what my mother went through after her rape," she explained.

"Oh," Casey answered, "Liv, I'm so..."

"Don't say sorry. I'm over it. It was a long time ago."

"I hope my little one will be as amazing as you," Casey said, honesty ringing in her voice.


	5. Confessions

_thanks for the reviews, dears. I'm glad you all like the story. Oh, and a note: Anon. reviews are accepted. Sorry, I didn't realize I had disabled them... oops. . Well, Confession Time, I suppose..._

Chapter Four: Confessions

"Why didn't you say so?" his voice snapped on the telephone. Casey had put Steven on speaker and the five other people in the room with her could hear him. She chewed her lip and tried not to flinch away lest four detectives and their captain read more into it than there was.

Her eyes wandered around the interrogation room shaking her head, small frown on her face. "Honey, please, calm down," she said soothingly, "I know you are angry, I expect that, but can you please at least keep your voice calm?"

She could see his face on the other side of the phone. It wasn't likely that he understood he was on speaker and she was asking more for his sake than hers. "No, Casey, I can't," he barked harshly, "why are you telling me this shit over the phone? Why couldn't you come home?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this," Casey bit back a sob as she felt Olivia's arm curl around her waist. The detective leaned her head on the prosecutor's shoulder and rubbed her back in small circles. The younger woman leaned against her friend, one hand clenched at her stomach. "I can't handle that, not now."

Steven muttered something that would be mostly incoherent on a normal phone, but everyone in the room picked it up as crystal clear as a resounding bell. Casey pulled her lower lip in and she chewed on it. Finally, Cragen stepped forward so he was standing close to the speaker.

"Steven, this is Donald Cragen, captain of precinct 16," he announced himself, "I am sorry to interrupt, but it would be good if you could come down to the squadroom. I imagine you and Casey need to chat, and the squadroom is a place I believe Casey feels most comfortable in." He looked to the councilor as she nodded once before twisting into Olivia's arms and hiding her face. She wasn't crying, she wasn't even shaking anymore. All she was thinking about was trying to block the face she could see so detailed in her mind's eye.

"Right, whatever. Tell Casey I'll see her when she gets home- if she's coming home." His voice had gone softer as he talked with Don.

Don didn't look to pleased with Steven's answer when Casey turned her head to look at him, but she shook her head quickly telling him not to make anything of it. It didn't matter anyway, Steven had hung up without another word.

"Casey," Elliot said sternly, "Are you sure nothing's wrong."

"Yeah," came her answer, "I did expect him to be a little pissed off. But, El, it's not at me, and we all know it. It's at that bastard." That was what she had taken to calling him, both outloud and in her head. She couldn't quite bring herself to think of him with a name. She knew he was a person, but it made things easier to get through without that idea.

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, alright, but Casey, you're like my little sister, I do worry."

"Contrary to your belief, we are a family, and we are close," Olivia added with a warm smile, "We're here if you need us, we're here if you don't."

Casey laughed lightly. "Thanks guys," she said, uncoiling herself from the female detective's warm hug. Her gaze turned to Fin and Munch, smile still playing at her lips. Fin hardly looked convinced, but that seemed usual. John looked like he was ready to tell Steven off, they all did. She couldn't help but let her smile grow bigger. "Honestly, Steven's only as mad as you are, as I remember you looking and sounding when you found the room. You are all just more practiced in cloaking that fact than he is."

Don sighed. "The wise prosecutor speaks the truth," he murmured crossing his hands over his chest, "that said, Casey, you look exhausted. Why don't you go up to the crib?"

She nodded at the suggestion. "I could just go home," she tried knowing full well she didn't want to.

"Nope," Fin spoke, "You need a good few hours rest before you talk to that boyfriend of yours."

Casey sighed acting as though she had been talked out of going to her apartment, but she knew she wasn't fooling anyone. Between the way that they were all glancing at her and the fact that she had walked in that morning to half-a-dozen questions about nightmares and how she was feeling. With a smile, she opened the door to the interrogation room.

When she closed the door behind her, she was a little shocked to find Dr. George Huang walking towards the room. "Working the case, Huang?" she asked careful not to ask for too much detail.

"Yes," he answered simply. She realized she hadn't seen him since the day she discovered who her rapist was. That was nearly four days ago, now. "How are you feeling, Casey?"

She could feel his eyes studying her, watching intently for any signs he could read. Instantly, she put on her lawyer guise, her eyes depleting of emotion, her body language going mute. She knew he would think that meant she was hiding something, but she was rarely her plain and simple self when around those she worked with. "I'm surviving," she answered. It was a truthful answer, he couldn't call her out on that.

"That's good." Naturally, he had shocked her a little with his response. Normally he was so much more analitical. It occured to her that he might still be watching her so she just smiled and nodded.

"I wish I could help," she mused. That seemed right because a light wandered into Huang's eyes. It was subtle and took people who knew him to notice.

"You can, but only as a victim," he answered and sorrow fell into her soul though her eyes remained guarded and calm, "My office door is always open."

She smiled at the offer. It seemed she was getting a lot of offers lately. A lot from everyone but her boyfriend. It was strange. He had been so angry with her, even before she told him. She suspected he had found her pregnancy tests a while back. The fact that he had kept that anger reigned in for so long made her shudder. Steven, as much of an angel she knew he could be, could explode into a rage of cussing and growling before going to bed without speaking to Casey until the next evening.

With a soft nod, Casey continued toward the crib, her mind racing with thoughts. She climbed the steps almost groggily. Maybe she was making too much of everything, and for once in her life she hoped it was exactly that. Her head hit the pillow and she was out, exhaustion taking over her sleep-starved body faster than she could comprehehnd it.

Sometime later, she awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. "Casey," the voice was decidedly femine. Casey started heavily and sat up, breathing hard and clearly ready to fight. "Casey, calm down. It's me, Olivia."

"O...Olivia," Casey breathed, "Oh God, I thought..." Her hand went to her chest and felt her thudding heart beneath her jacket and blouse.

Through the dimly lit room she could see Olivia smile. "Only a nightmare," she murmured soothingly, "I brought you a few things. I don't think you want to be sleeping all night in your suit."

"All night?"

"Well, it's nine at night. Steven called on the office line maybe five minutes ago. He and the Cap'n had a talk. Cragen thinks it's a bad idea for you to go home. I'm inclined to agree with him, Casey, he sounded pretty drunk. Let Steven take a night to think things through himself. I'll drive you home tomorrow morning in the squad car so you can get clothes then take you to work."

For the first time, Casey noticed Olivia had cloth in her hand. The woman laid them on the bed and shook them out. "It's simple," the detective said, "just a large gray tee shirt with blue lettering and a pair of black cotton shorts. Uh... you're a small, right?"

It clicked. Olivia was letting her wear her clothes so that Casey wouldn't have to go home to the unknown, to what even Cragen didn't want her to go to. "Thanks, Liv," she said standing up and taking the clothes. She slid off her jacket but looked uncomfortably at the detective, holding her hands on the buttons of her blouse.

"Right," Olivia said suddenly understanding, "well, I'll be downstairs for another couple of hours. Come get me if you need something. I'll check on you before I leave."

"Thank you so much, detective," the prosecutor said sheepishly. She still felt too embaressed to do some of the things she had no problem doing before the rape, changing in front of her friends was one of them.

As soon as the door closed behind Olivia, Casey unbuttoned her shirt and pulled off her skirt. Her nose wrinkled as she looked at her body. The tiny lump on her center was hard as she ran her hands over it a few times. It was still hard to believe that there was a baby inside of her, something so tiny and helpless. It would be completely dependant on her and she would be completely lost in her love for it. At least, that was the point, right? She picked up the shorts and slid them on. Pregnancy hadn't gained her much weight around her thighs, thank goodness. It was a little too small around the waist, but she pushed it down so it rested just below the bulk of her belly. The shirt, an extra large, easily hid her belly though, and she curled up on the bed again.

Only five minutes later, Casey Novak stood once more, this time she made her way downstairs to where Olivia said she would be. Sure enough, the older woman was working at her desk, Ellioit working at the desk next to her. She assumed Cragen was in his office as per usual. "Hey guys," she said timidly.

Both turned to look at her. Shock was reflected in their eyes, but they simply smiled. "Decided to wake up?" Elliot asked rhetorically. Casey laughed softly.

"Case," Olivia said, "how'd you manage that?" She pointed to a large bruise on Casey's leg, just below her knee.

Casey blushed. "Nightmare," she admitted rather shamefacedly.

Elliot nodded. "Don't feel so bad about it, Case," he comforted her, "everyone has nightmares. It's expected and part of human nature."

The young woman nodded. "The clothes fit, Liv," she pointed out changing the subject, "thank you so much for letting me wear them."

"No problem, prosecutor," she said, "Besides, an NYPD shirt suits you, you coulda been a detective if you weren't so busy getting us warrents." The smile on Olivia's face made Casey chuckle.

"I do like it," she said with a smirk.

Elliot simply shook her head. "Women. Can't live with them, can't live without them. Can't understand 'em either," he muttered with a raised brow. The two girls gave him a dark look and he squeaked and went back to his work trying to be innocent.

"So, what's up, Case?" Olivia asked, "what do ya need?"

Casey shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "Just, company," she answered pulling the shirt even further down past the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

"Well, 'just company' come sit down and chat." Elliot looked up from the paper work he was finishing.

Casey complied by pulling Fin's desk chair over so that she was sitting closer to the other two in the room. She plopped down gracefully, a hand automatically going to protect her stomach. She pulled the shirt over her knees and leaned forward a little, silently watching them watch her. She gnawed on her lip for a second and looked at her feet. "It was really weird," she muttered to her bare feet instantly gaining the attention of the two detectives.

"I woke up because I was thristy. I don't think I would have ever woken up otherwise, my sleeping pills are really strong. It was confusing at first because I couldn't move, but after I began waking up, I realized I was tied. My hands and feet. Steven was away at a business meeting in Arizona. He goes on one every three months. I wish he didn't, he's always gone so long, a week, sometimes two. I did a little background checking, and his business does require him to go to meetings when he does. I don't know why I didn't believe him, but we've been going out for a year and a half. I mean, Hell, he asks me nearly every night if I'm ready to have," she paused and looked guilty before whispering, "sex."

She fidgetted uncomfortably again, crossing and uncrossing her legs a few times. It was nice that the detectives let her ramble a little bit, Casey did want to stall somewhat before telling them what happened, but she definately wanted to tell. It wasn't that she had come to peace with it; the overwhelming need to say something had finally pulled her towards her friends to speak. "I always say no," she continued, "I don't mind sleeping with him, but I always have to have my clothes on, and so did he."

Her tongue ran across her lips as Olivia and Elliot leaned closer, intent on finding out what happened. "Casey, what happened after you woke up?" Elliot pressed gently after a few seconds of silence.

"The woman was sitting on the edge of my bed. It was like she was waiting for me to wake up, or studying me. She never said anything, just pulled a knife out of her belt. I thought she was going to kill me and that's when I started struggling. It didn't occur to me to fight before then. The man was in a mask and setting up the camera. She smacked me across the face before taking the knife and cutting off my clothes." Casey shivered, wrapping her arms about her shoulders and drawing her knees up to her chest. "She touched me- everywhere. She touched me with her hands. She kept snapping her teeth and laughing. She laughed because I tried to get her off.

"When the man was done, she got off me and moved to the side. She pushed a button on the camera and then he was unzipping his pants. He crawled ontop of me and raped me once before getting off. He decided to take his clothes off and do it again. He raped me four more times before the woman told him to get off. It seemed like she was incharge. He was her whipping boy, he did whatever she wanted him to do. She told him what to do and how to do it and he would. He... he enjoyed it, no doubt about it, but she was definately incharge.

"After he got off, she sat back on the edge of my bed. My body hurt from struggling and from him being on me so hard. She started biting me. She bit my breasts and my..." Casey's right hand covered her chest and her left moved between her legs as she coiled tighter. Tears were balling up in her eyes and she was clearly struggling to fight them.

Elliot's brow furrowed close together. "Casey," his voice held such sorrow, but he clearly couldn't think of anything else to say.

Casey shook her head and held her body tighter. "Thank you, detectives," she said in a bare whisper.

"Don't thank us until we arrest the woman who set this all up," Olivia said steadfastly. Casey smiled timidly. It was clear the older woman was very determined.

"Liv, there will be little evidence unless you found something in his house. Don't tell me if you did, though, I don't want it to ruin anyone's case. I'll testify if I need to, of course, but I would rather not for obvious reasons." Casey turned into her prosecutor personality, tears still clinging to her eyes. "It'll still be a she said-she said-he said. If she has a good lawyer, he can tear a hole in the case pretty quick." She shook her head slowly, fighting the tears.

This time, the male detective could only promise so much. It was easier promising someone who had no idea what may or may not happen that a rapist or a molestor would be found, but promising the ADA was an entirely different story. "We'll gather as much evidence as we can, Casey. If it's there, we'll find it," he murmured soothingly to her.

She nodded softly. "Thanks again," she responded numbly. Her gaze travelled to the stairs and held their spot for a few seconds. "I think I'm going back to sleep, detectives. Thank you so much for listening, it felt good, you know?" Casey was mumbling now and she saw Elliot and Olivia lean forward a little bit to hear her.

"Alright, Case," the female detective said with a nod, "sleep well."

The prosecutor stood up and walked the stairs slowly. When she lay down, the pull of her body was so great that she wished she could sleep, but that was, as usual, too much to hope for. When one of the detectives checked up on her before they left, she turned her back to them and pretended to be asleep.


	6. Whore

ficfan: Good question. I don't really have an answer aside from the fact Casey's a grown woman in a safe place. . I kind of went with the idea that she's the type of person who asks for something she needs unless it makes her look weak, but if someone responds where she hasn't asked, she'll turn away their help. o.0 It makes sense to me, but I speak fluent Lady-talk, not many people do.

To All: Thank you so much for the reviews. o.0 Lady

Chapter Five: Whore

The door opened at six in the morning finding Casey already dressed and showered via the squardroom's locker showers. After dressing, she had meandered back to her bed and simply sat there waiting. She figured that had been about four hours or so now. The paperwork for one of her minor cases was finished, though she doubted she'd end up prosecuting it. Right now, she was on vacation, thank the DA for that. The case wasn't meant to be tried for two months, but the defendant's lawyer was pushing for a faster trial. Detectives were still working the case which was proving a hassle. Finally, she had put her work away and submitted to laying on the bed in thought.

She was thinking about the baby and how that would effect her carrer, how it would effect her life in general. There was so much to think about, so much that she didn't want to think about, but she would eventually, and now was as good a time as any. Being torn between how she would feel about looking at a child with her rapist's genes and how she would feel about looking at a child with her genes wasn't easy. What she loved and what she feared all bundled up into one tiny, helpless child. Two people, the same baby. Her head hurt.

"'Morning, lovely," Olivia's voice said from the doorway, "how'd you sleep?"

Casey looked at the detective and offered a soft smile. "I slept fine," she responded, "not as well as I might have, but fine enough, thank you." She slid her legs off the bed and stood up. Makeup covered the honest answer to Olivia's question. Deep bags lay beneath barely lit eyes, but looked like nothing more than mere shadows. She'd used what seemed like half of her bottle of cover-up when she had gotten out of the shower. The woman yawned, throwing her hand over her mouth.

The detective's eyes narrowed. "Not enough sleep?" she asked. Casey nodded. "Why don't you get more?"

"Can't. Too much to do." The young woman shook her head but smiled. "I may be on vacation, but I can't quite bring myself to quit working. There's already too much time to think, anyway."

"Alright," Olivia answered, "El's talking to Cragen about what you told us last night. Leslie said she'd be here by eight to talk Jakeson. You gonna stick around, or are you off again?"

Her lips pursed slightly as she thought about that one. Technically, she shouldn't stick around, but part of her really wanted to. "For a little while," she responded after a few long minutes, "I'll see how Leslie's thinking of prosecuting this one." Leslie, the Associate District Attorney often helped Casey research and finish up her paper work. Twice now, the starkly blonde woman had gone to trial with the Assistant DA, and Casey was quite proud of the woman.

"I'll drive you to pick up some fresh clothes," Olivia said, "After all, I promised last night." She pointed to Casey's clothes. "Besides, I don't think you want to walk around wearing that."

Casey looked down at her wrinkled clothes and laughed. "Thanks, detective."

/II\\

"Mr. Jakeson, 25-30 years in Riker's and you'll be eligible for parole, but only if you co-operate. Otherwise, I'm leaving this up to a jury, and your lawyer will tell you the chances are not in your favour. Twenty two women and counting leaves little room for a break."

Oliva and Elliot were leaning against the wall of the interrogation room in case something happened and Maxwell got violent. So far, everything had gone well and Casey couldn't help but be proud of Leslie for handling things the way she was. The deal she offered was tantalizing, and the ADA could see that Jakeson's lawyer was practically drooling over it. Now, if only his client would talk.

"I don't get him," Casey said turning to Cragen who was standing beside her, "but I really don't want to. Would you mind doing me a favour?"

"Of course not, Casey," Cragen replied still watching through the one way mirror.

"Have Leslie call me when she's done. Steven said he was going to be home for lunch, I kind of wanted to meet him there."

"Are you sure?" Cragen turned his attention to the ADA, frown on his face.

"Yeah. I figure I ought to tell him I'm fine and he should relax. But, what I told Liv and El yesterday," she hesitated as the squad captain looked at her interestingly, "I'd rather he not know about the woman."

"Done," Cragen said with a slight wink, "now go get some rest and support from your boyfriend."

Casey smiled. "Thanks, dad," she joked.

/II\\

Her cell phone rang almost the same time she walked into her apartment. "Hello?" A pause. "Oh, Leslie. No, don't worry about the deal, I would have done the same thing." A slightly longer pause. "Yes, alright. Thanks hun. Best of luck to you. I'll see you at the office." She shut the phone with one hand as she put her briefcase down on the counter in the kitchen.

"Casey," she heard behind her.

She twirled around and smiled as Steven's face came into view. "Hey hun," she said. She was tempted to throw her arms around him and give him a hug, but he didn't quite look like he was ready for that. In fact, he still looked rather drunk from last night. "Steven?" A note of fear entered her voice. He could be pretty interesting sober, but Casey had never seen him drunk before.

"Not only did you hide a pregnancy from me for four months where you knew damn well I couldn't be the father, but you let me think I was sleeping with a clean woman?" he snarled smacking her across the cheek, "Casey, not only did you make yourself dirty, you made me dirty. You fucking got what was coming to you."

The woman just stood there, one hand on her cheek, eyes wide in shock. She was pinned between him and the counter and the lawyer part of her was screaming 'abuse, leave now' while the sensible part of her was screaming that there was no way out. "Steven, please," her voice stayed strong, but Casey wasn't sure how long she could keep it that way, "if you don't calm down, I'm leaving."

He shook his head, almost laughing at her. "Calm down? Casey, calm down? This would have been different if you had just told me in the first place. I wouldn't be so pissed off. It's your fault," he hissed to her as he leaned closer so that she was almost overwhelmed by the intoxicating stentch on him. Steven grabbed her shoulders, holding her firmly, and shook her a little causing Casey's head to knock into the cabinet door. "Where? Where were you fucking raped?"

Casey struggled against his grip, flash backs diluting the thought process of her mind. Frightened and now with her head throbbing with pain, Casey pointed in the direction of the bedroom. The bedroom, the bed she had somehow managed to convince herself was safe because Steven would be there to protect her if anyone came back. She wouldn't sleep in there if he wasn't with her.

"The bedroom. Our bedroom?" His voice came at her in a blur, a whirlwind of sound. She could feel the grip on her arms tighten as he continued to shake her, but she was lost mostly to the flash backs and the headache that was now spreading quickly through her mind. The sharp slap roused her, however, and she blinked, staring at him. "Pay attention, bitch," he spat making Casey flinch from him for the first time ever. She turned her head and looked away until he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I want you out," her voice was barely a whisper, but she managed to look straight into his eyes, "I want you to leave and not return."

Steven was shaking his head before she finished. "I'm not going anywhere," he barked, "you wanna know why?"

"No. I don't want to know why because you are leaving."

"Or what? You'll call your cops?" his hand rested on her cell phone for a brief second before he picked it up and smashed it to the floor. It cracked, the battery falling out. "Now, pick it up and give it to me." The tone in his voice gave Casey the creeps so she did as she was told, her mind quickly realizing she was in a hostage-like situation.

She hadn't heard him pick up the knife, but he must have because as soon as she stood back up to hand him the phone, the cold blade was pressed against her neck. "Steven," she said, fear finally entering her voice, "what are you doing?"

"You won't tell anyone, got it?" The knife moved down to her stomach. "There's more than one way to break your heart." All Casey could do was nod, her entire being rejecting his actions. "Good," he said smugly as he grabbed her hair and lead her out of the kitchen.

She thought perhaps she could make a run for it, but is grip was good and when she even tried to pull away, he pulled back, hard. A whimper escaped her lips and her hands went up to protect her scalp, though it hardly did any good. Quite unexpectedly, Casey found herself moving through the air, the pain in her head slowing much to her relief. However, a half moment later, she was pressed on the couch feeling as if she was about to be eaten by one of two things, the cushions or Steven. She really hoped for the former if it came down to it. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut as his alcohol induced lips found hers. The young woman tried her best not to breath in the aweful stench, but she felt it enter her mouth with him and infect her body making her itch to vomit. Finally, she was able to worm her hands onto his chest and attempt to toss him off. She was surprised when he stepped back a little. "I'm not all that sure what your rapist saw in you," he said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "In fact, I don't even think you were raped. You lied because you were screwing some bastard and now you're fucking pregnant. You're a whore and you're just using this shit to save your ADA reputation."

For a moment, she thought Steven might leave for he had turned and made towards the door. After a moment, he turned back and Casey could only imagine the hopeful look she had on her face. It was a dead give away and she wished she hadn't let her emotions take over. "Bedroom," he snapped, "now."

If he had a whip, the woman knew she wouldn't have hesitated. As it was, she did hesitate and for a moment too long. "I said now!" he yelled launching at her and grabbing her roughly by the arm. He grabbed her and tossed her to the floor causing her to connect violently with her shoulder against the coffee table. Casey yelped and was about to scream when she realized that the sound only made him angrier. A foot connected with her rib cage and she began to scuttle furiously away from her assaliant. Every time she moved, it was to get away from Steven, and he was kicking her in different areas. It occured to her that he was herding her, and she looked behind her and realized it was true. She was heading right to the bedroom and there was nothing she could do from her position to stop it. A yelp escaped her lips each time the shoe connected with her flesh, and after each yelp, the shoe always connected harder than before. Once she was completely in the room, Steven stopped and calmly walked out, locking the door behind him. 

Casey's eyes widened as she looked around the room. The phone was gone, the lock had changed, the lamps were gone. He had been planning to shut her away all along, or else he had been lost in a rage last night that was much worse than the one he was in now. She stared at her clothes laying on the floor. He must have gone through her closet last night. The mess was killing her, but didn't have the energy or strength to pick them back up. Casey could barely move herself across the floor to collapse onto the heap of clothing let alone actually stand up. Tired and frightened, she curled into the fetal position and fell asleep, body still shivering in fear.

Quite a while later, she found herself being shaken awake. Her body was more sore than it had been even four months ago. Every part of her body ached and her head throbbed in time with her heart beat. "Casey, wake up," the masculine voice reached her ears and she rolled over with a moan. Steven was staring down at her, crouched just above her face. The alcohol had rubbed off from his breath and she could actually stand to breathe again.

"S...Steven," she muttered. He was too close to her to move away, but she really wanted to get away. Her body was remembering its encounter earlier in the day.

His face actually looked sad, so much so that Casey felt for him. "Baby," he murmured stroking her hair, "I'm really sorry about this afternoon. Can you forgive me?" She shook her head and cringed waiting for the blow. "Baby, I really am sorry. Please, you have to forgive me."

"Why?" she asked him taking the opportunity of him moving to sit on the bed to stand up and prepare to defend herself a little more this time despite her body's rejections of the act. That was when she noticed that there were tears clinging to his eyes. She stared at him, almost hating him but unable to bring herself to completely do so.

Steven watched her, she could feel his eyes on her, as she sat down next to him, leaning against him looking for support and acceptance from the one person who was completely rejecting her right now. "If only you'd told me," he muttered looping an arm around her shoulders.

Part of her head knew what he was doing, but her heart was trapped. He had accepted her problems and was actually apologizing to her. "I'm sorry," she said solemnly.

"I forgive you," Steven said. How the tables turned so easily, Casey wasn't sure. Wasn't she supposed to forgive him for bruising her, but here she was apologizing for something she didn't even do. But then, maybe it was her fault. If only she had told him what had happened before, he wouldn't have gotten drunk and wouldn't have gotten mad at her. She decided that must be it, that perhaps it really was her fault.

"What time is it?" she asked curiously.

"It's six. Dinner's ready on the table if you're hungry. Even if you aren't, you should try and eat something anyway," he answered her, helping her stand up and guiding her to the door.

Casey didn't resist his offer. She was hungry and he was being helpful. "Thanks, Steven," she said walking with him and sitting down at the kitchen. It actually looked like he had cooked something really fancy and the smells only made her realize she hadn't eaten all day. Sitting down, she looked at the plate in front of her. Chicken with aspargus lay before her topped by a creamy white sauce and tiny crushed leaves of rosemary.

"You're welcome," he said sitting down across from her, "well, dig in."

He began chowing down and she sat and smiled for a moment, simply watching him. Eventually, she picked up her own utensils and began eating. It tasted delicious, like he had really tried. Before, he always expected her to somehow manage a proper dinner between working late and getting up early. Some nights, there was no dinner for either person, but Casey hadn't minded. Steven had yelled when she worked past ten, but the prosecutor had ignored him.

"Wow," she murmured after swallowing her first bite, "that's amazing, Steven." Her voice was quiet, reserved. She didn't want to say something to throw him off anymore. Before, she hadn't minded him just telling her to shut-up, but now that she had seen what he could do, what he would do, she didn't want to take her chances.

Steven finsihed chewing before pointing his fork in Casey's general direction. "Thanks babe," he said with a sweet smile, "but, ya know? I've been thinking. Your boss gave you a couple of weeks off to get your head around things, right? Well, why don't you stay home and rest for a few days. Your detectives can't really use your help since this case is partially about you. Leslie'll do fine, I'm sure." He stopped talking and watched her; Casey could feel his dark eyes boring into her and she suddenly realized what concrete felt like during construction month.

Growing tired of toying with food she really hadn't the appetite to finish completely, she rose from the table. "Maybe," she said thinking the idea over for a few moments.

The woman picked up her plate and carried it to the other side of the counter where she deposited everything on it in the sink. Looking up, she discovered Steven's hot glare watching her every move in silent brooding. It took a second to swallow the lump in her throat, but when she finally managed it down, she offered, "Steven, it was great, but I'm really not that hungry." Casey smiled weakly at her explination before turning away from the kitchen and walking out. She didn't really want to stick around and wait until he blew up at her again.

He didn't ask where she was going, so she didn't tell him. Instead, she let her feet move her into the bathroom; morning sickness hadn't quite left after the first trimester and never seemed to be limited to the morning. After locking the door, Casey leaned over the tolit not even looking in the mirror near the bathtub on her way in. It was when she was standing up, wiping her lips with a piece of toliet paper that she even noticed her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes went wide, one hand timidly reaching up to touch the spot of black, blue, and deep purple under her cheek. She flinched away at her own touch, pain weaving through her face and part way down her neck before fading away.

Curious now, but mostly sickened, she stripped off her skirt and blouse and stood staring at her body, a new wave of revulsion and fear drawing her away from Steven. Black, blue, and purple marks were beginning to show up on her stomach, mostly around her rib cage, legs, and arms. The first bruise she saw was the only one on her face, but she now understood why he was thinking that she not go into work for a few days. Casey stared for a long time before deciding that perhaps he was right. If she didn't go in because she needed a few days to try and weave through the mess she was in, everyone would understand and without question. If she went in with a bruise, she knew that there would be questions. As much as she loved the squad, they were cops, and cops, like lawyers, enjoyed questions. Casey could even predict what questions might be asked and just how they would ask it so that it didn't seem that they were pressing.

Nauseated, she stripped the rest of her clothes without concentrating on her reflection and began running the water to the shower. When it was hot enough to burn away the feeling, though wouldn't actually burn her skin, Casey stepped in and simply stood, rooted to the spot in a dumbstruck manner. 


	7. There's Nothing There

Chapter Six: There's Nothing There...

Sunday morning found Casey Novak laying in bed, her hands pressed to her ears, her eyes squeezed shut against the inceasant ringing that had started Thursday night. There was nothing she could think of to have started the sound in the back of her head, but it was there. It made her feel dizzy, sick in a way very different than the last four months had been. Light hurt, sound hurt, movement hurt. At first, she had thought it was a migrane, but lately she had decided that it was like her head was being slammed against some hard surface repeatedly, though as far as she knew, she was laying alone in her bed, soft down pillow beneath her head.

Eventually the ringing subsided enough that she could stand it, and the woman let her hands fall back to her sides. To her, it was strange, a ringing she couldn't explain, and five days she literally couldn't recall living. Thursday through Sunday, the woman could remember quite clearly. Steven had vanished on one of his business trips and would be gone for a few days. Friday night, she had slepted on the couch, but at about two in the morning, she felt oddly drawn to sleeping in the bed. She had gone to the bed and it was the first night in a long time she hadn't had a nightmare. The ringing had started nearly a week ago, however, and everytime it got too bad, Casey meant to make an appointment with her doctor to get it checked out, but she never went through with it. Part of it was because she couldn't find her phone, most of it was that she didn't know how she would explain it. If she couldn't manage to remember what had led up to the ringing, how was she supposed to ask a doctor to figure out why it was happening?

Contented, Casey slid her bare legs out of bed. The bruises she had gained on Friday were almost non-existent. There were certainly far fewer now than there had been. The only bruises that were semi-fresh were on her arms, and those were from the nightmares she had nearly every night. She smiled a little to herself, but the woman still pulled the shirt down a little further over the boxer shorts she was wearing. Even alone, she wasn't fond of the exposed feeling most of her clothes left her with. The one place she was supposed to be more than just physically safe, had betrayed her twice now. She felt guilty and stupid for staying, but where else was there to go? That aside, Steven had only lost it that once. Otherwise, he had been his normal self as far as she could remember. He wasn't home often enough because of his job, but hers was the same so she could hardly hold it against him. She had been left in the apartment for nearly a week, taking advantage of her time off to clear her head and think.

The sound of her apartment buzzer going off made her furrow her brow with confusion. Casey looked at the clock above the bed, eyes widening in shock as she read off an easy three-thirty. She supposed in the afternoon since the sun was shining lightly trough the window. The intercom buzzed again and she hurried to answer it.

"Yes?" she asked pressing the gray button near the speaker.

A brief pause made Casey wonder if she was only hearing another odd sound in her head. Seconds later, however, she learned that it wasn't in her head. "Hey, Case," a friendly feminine voice came out of the speaker, "It's Liv. I might have good news for you, can I come up?"

Wondering what Olivia Benson meant by 'good news', Casey responded with a 'sure' and pressed the red button that would allow Olivia access to the building.

It was then that she noticed how bare she was just in a baby blue tank top that was starting to get a little tight around her middle and pair of black boxers Steven had bought once but never worn. She walked into her bedroom, grabbing one of Steven's massive shirts that he so liked to wear when not at work, she pulled it over her head covering a lot of her body. As content as she could be in the situation, the woman opened the door just as the detective had raised a hand to knock. "Detective," she said politely before gesturing for her friend to enter the apartment. If memory served her well, Olivia had been in the apartment only once before. "What can I do for you?"

Olivia had a glint in her eyes that told Casey something big was going on. She ran a hand through her dyed hair waiting for the woman to answer.

"I've tried to call you for the past three days, but you never answered. I figured that you had turned your phone off to get rest and sorta let you alone for that reason, but when I couldn't reach you today, I had to come over," she said with a gentle smile.

Casey's brow furrowed once more. "Honestly, Olivia, I have no idea where my phone is," she answered with a shake of her head as if to clear that idea from her mind. A hand went to her forehead as a sharp, needle-like pain shot quickly from the base of her neck. "What did you find?"

"Case," Olivia's tone was worried, "what's wrong?"

"Pregnancy issues," she muttered, "now tell me what you came here to tell me."

The detective's eyes narrowed in suspiscion, but the lawyer's gaze must have made the older woman change her mind. "The squad went through all of the open cases that involved a female rapist. We found two that matched the MO of Jakeson's accomplice. Apparently she likes to go after people with power. Huang's got some ideas on that one. Munch and Fin drew a list of suspects from those cases." She paused and flipped open a manila folder Casey hadn't realized the woman had been carrying. "In short, Casey, do you recognize any of these women?"

Casey took the folder and studied the eight pictures before her. Each on had similar features such as eye-colour, hair colour, facial structure. Some of them even looked like the stranger from Casey's nightmares, but none of them were exact. Her face fell as she looked up at the detective. "I'm sorry, Liv. She's not there," the prosecutor mumbled, hanging her head and handing back the folder.

Olivia's face fell as well, but she offered encouragement. "Don't be sorry Casey. We want her as badly as you. It'll just take time; she's slipping through our fingers so easily. In the meantime, I'll probably be asking you to look at a lot of pictures."

Casey nodded, unable to speak. She simply turned around and slunk over to the couch leaving Olivia to stare worriedly after her. Falling rather ungracefully onto the plush material, she sighed heavily. "I hate this," she said to no one in particular.

"You're going through a lot right now," the older woman answered as she sat down beside the prosecutor, "If you enjoyed it, I'd have you committed. At least take comfort in the fact that you're normal."

"Am I?" Casey asked turning her head to her friend, "What is normal? And, please don't say happy." She blinked back a few tears. "I used to think I was happy with everything. I mean, my job's amazing. Something good is happening and I'm so glad to be apart of it."

"So what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. That's just it." In truth, she felt as though she was failing herself everytime she awoke to this lie she felt that she was living in and had been living in for a while now. Obviously, though, it was something she wouldn't admit to, ever. A scream was building in her gut and it took all she had to supress the feeling. Maybe Huang was right, she should go to a therapist. Obviously she had a lot of things going through her head that she couldn't even imagine beginning to sort out by herself.

Thinking hurt her head still and she squeezed her dim eyes shut until the feeling went away. It took more than just a few seconds for it to go away. She pressed the heels of her hands into the temples of her head, startling when she felt Olivia's hand wrap around her wrist. Casey jumped and pulled away from the detective, eyes opening in a flash. A small, incoherent mutter escaped her lips as she regained her location.

"Sorry," Casey whispered.

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"Not for this," the woman answered, "but I have an appointment coming up. I figured that I would mention it then." It was a half truth. She had had an appointment coming up, but she had cancelled it a few days ago. Promising herself that she would make another one soon, she sighed and sat back.

The detective still held Casey's wrist in her hand, a loose grrip to be sure, but one that made Casey a little more than uneasy. "Casey," Olivia's voice held a note of stern worry, "what's this?"

Her eyes travelled down to the brownish purple marks near her hands before she looked away, ashamed. "I still have nightmares," she whispered, the sound of her lips coming together almost louder than the words themselves, "I woke up a the other day and Steven had both of my wrists in his hands. He said I was lashing out in my sleep and he didn't want me to hurt myself. I guess he grabbed me a little harder than he meant to because he left these." She held up both wrists for Olivia to compare, and she watched as the detective studied them closely before putting her hands back in her lap.

"Where is your boyfriend?"

"Business trip. He left Thursday." Casey fiddled with her shirt for a second. "He's been pretty good about it. Last Friday, he was frustrated, yelling about it, but he's been really helpful since." That scream was building up in her stomach again. That made two half lies she'd told so far. She couldn't remember most of anything since the afternoon, and she didn't have a doctor's appointment. Maybe she was lying completely. That made her a little uneasy since she didn't really like lying to those she trusted.

Olivia smiled at the prosecutor. "You were right," she said, "I'm glad." The older woman patted the younger's shoulder. "Leslie's been by the squadroom a few times. She said Steven dropped by the office Friday afternoon."

"Yeah," Casey responded as if she knew that Steven had been there even though she had no idea.

"Why was he going through your desk?"

Her mind thought fast, too fast, and her mouth had answered before she could even think that it made three lies. Casey was frustrated with herself. She couldn't figure out what was compelling her to lie about the simpliest things. Yes, she was afraid of them finding out about Friday midday, but there was nothing else, and there was nothing to lead anyone to thinking Steven had more than lost it. "I told hiim I lost my phone. He offered to look for it," she answered, "no luck, though."

Olivia nodded once and stood up. "Will you be in tomorrow?" she asked, "we have a new case. Leslie's been assigned to take it, but she says she's never handled anything like it. You have, and she wanted your advice. Leslie was with Munch and Fin when I left talking to the victim's mother. You up for it?"

"Yes. If you wait a couple of minutes, I'll come down with you now and see what's going on. I just need to get dressed." Casey followed Olivia's action and stood up. The detective nodded in acceptance and the woman wandered to her bedroom to change.

Minutes later, Casey returned to the front room wearing long suit pants and a black blouse. "Alright," she said in a slightly more cheery tone than she had been speaking in earlier, "shall we head to the bullpen?"

"If you weren't an ADA, you'd be with us, finding the evidence, wouldn't you?" The question was clearly rhetorical so Casey didn't answer it. Instead, she offered a smile and opened the door to her apartment. Olivia walked out and turned so that Casey could lock the door.

They walked down the hallway in silence, Casey thinking everything over several times in her head. Olivia was silent, but Casey didn't ask why. The prosecutor was wracking her brain to try and figure out why she was suddenly so skiddish and felt so compelled to lie to the detective. Nothing came up, just a lot of blanks. All of those blanks worried her, they were unusual for her. Casey had an excellent memory and the fact that something wasn't there was not a good sign.

Olivia had her car parked near the building and the two got in. Once they were in the car, Olivia piped up. "Casey, you're different," she said as she watched the woman in a protective manner.

"Yes, Olivia, I am," Casey answered, her mind falling into the lawyer personality, "I expect it to be. You should too."

"I do, and I saw that change. But this is more. You seem perplexed. The past few months, you've been out of it. Then, for a few days, you were really out of your shell. The call to Steven put you right back into your shell."

"He reacted to what happened. Memories. They really don't leave and can come up at any time. Maybe in a few years," Casey responded, "maybe."

"Alright, but," Olivia began.

"Detective, please, drop it. Your searching and there's nothing there." Casey pondered the double meaning of her statement and whether it was absolutely true or not.

Olivia did. She didn't open her mouth, but Casey could tell by her eyes she desperately wanted to press. "Thank you," the woman murmured, "can you fill me in on this latest case?"

"Technically it's Fin and Munch's. El and I are still on a woman hunt. Basically, a woman walked into the hospital torn to pieces with two kids. A little girl and a little boy. All three were beaten pretty badly. The mother, Amy Hanson, died on the operating table. She'd been shot four times. No one's sure how she walked from her house two and a half miles from the hospital with two kids let alone not get noticed. The kids say they walked. The girl, Faith, she's doing alright. Rape kit came back positive though. No DNA present, but definately seminal fluids. And, a nine-year-old doesn't have sex willingly. Her younger brother is who we're most worried about. He's in a coma and it doesn't sound like he's going to pull through."

Casey held her breath. "One murder, hopefully not two, one rape. Whoever did this is going down hard," she mused. The days she helped put criminals where they belonged were the days she loved her job. Those were the days everyone she worked with loved their jobs. But, days like this, she really hated the kinds of cases she prosecuted. Why people would want to do this sort of thing was beyond her, but she still had to prove a motive. And the arguments against were always the same.

"Two rapes," Olivia corrected, "Amy was scarred and torn up pretty badly. We brought in her husband for questioning. All signs point to domestic violence. The girl has a lot of healed fractures and the boy has a broken arm. Amy had a pretty packed medical record, too."

"God help me if I ever understand why people beat the shit out of their families."

"As long as researches don't say genes are what make people do things. We're screwed if that end up the case."

"Olivia, if anyone says that, I'm dragging you to their research office. You're living proof it takes more than nature," Casey responded, "possibly more than nurture." 


	8. I Chose This Path

Chapter 7: I Chose This Path

The rest of the ride to the precinct had been fairly silent. Casey worried that she might have stepped out of line on her last comment, but Olivia's small smile told her that wasn't likely. "Are you alright?" the ADA finally asked.

"Yea," the detective answered briefly shrugging, "I was just thinking about this case. It's standard domestic violence, guy beats wife to death, but there's something off somewhere."

Casey didn't dispute it. Olivia was usually good at knowing where something was off. That was what made her a good detective. That was the quality that most of the detectives in the precinct had, and Casey was greatful for it. It usually put the right people in jail for a very long time.

The car pulled up in the precinct parkinglot and Olivia turned off the engine. Casey stepped out and walked with the detective into the precinct.

"Thank God you're here," Elliot said as soon as the two walked into the office. Casey and Olivia exchanged glances. "Casey, Leslie's in Cragen's office. We've tried talkin' to her, but she won't come out. I think her nerves have been completely shot. There's a buncha guys here, I think she might be more comfortable with one of you."

Casey nodded. "I'll talk to her. I think I know what this is about," she answered, "no offense Liv."

"None taken. You know her way better than I." Olivia grabbed a file from Elliot's desk and sat down at hers, flipping through it.

Casey opened the door to Cragen's office. She couldn't see anyone in there at first, but a tiny voice greeted her. "I'll be out in a minute, Captain," it said shakily.

"Leslie, it's me."

"Casey?"

"What's wrong?" Casey stepped through the gateway and closed the door behind her. Leslie was laying on her back on the floor, tear streaks stained her face.

Leslie shook her head and placed her hands on her forehead. "I can't," she muttered into her hands, "I can't do this."

The prosecutor nodded. Slowly, she sat down next to her associate and picked up her hands. Holding them in her lap, Casey asked, "Is this about what happened to your own mother?"

Her head nodded and Casey sighed running her own hands through her hair. "Leslie," she began but wasn't really sure how else to continue.

Fortunately for her, the young brunette piqued up. "If this Hanson guy is guilty, I can't try the case without breaking down in court. I mean, Casey, look at me. I'm a fucking mess and we don't even know for certain if it is a domestic abuse case."

It was easy to see that it took a lot for Leslie to admit to that and the prosecutor's mind reeled with questions. Why was it affecting her so much? Why did it bring up memories about the mother? What really did go on? Leslie had never said much about her past except that her father died in a drunk driving accident where he was the one drunk and that her mother was shot to death in their home, and it was her mother's death that had lead Leslie to be a prosecuting attorney in the first place. Other than that, Casey knew very little and asked even less. She supposed it was something she had done out of courtesy for the past however many months. Don't ask, don't tell applied to more than one thing.

"Why?" Casey asked after a few moments of dead silence, "Les, I know cases get hard but you're strong. I've seen you try some tough as Hell cases with me and you didn't break a sweat. What's wrong with this one?"

The brunette was quiet for a minute before finally speaking in a voice just above a whisper. "How did you do it, Case? Even after what happened, happened, you still tried rape cases. You didn't flinch when those monsters looked you in the eye even knowing what one of them did."

"I couldn't flinch," Casey responded feeling a tear threaten at her eyes, "I had to try the cases to my best ability to put a monster in jail, where monsters belong." She swallowed hard. Everytime she had tried one of her cases, she had come so close to breaking, but she had coached herself out of it. She had one policy, and that was to not look weak in front of anyone. Just because she was a woman didn't make her naturally weak, and just because she had been raped didn't make her a victim. Of course, she wondered if the woman Elliot and Olivia were after would be caught by now if she had given up her stubborn tendancies and just admitted that violation.

"Off the record?" a tiny squeakish voice Casey hardly recognized met her eyes.

The woman looked at the other beside her, the sad look in her eyes met by a haunted one in Leslie's. That look was enough to bite back any protests that would normally arise. Sucking in a slow breath to brace herself for she knew that whenever Leslie wanted something off the record, it was never a good thing, Casey answered with a slow, "Off the record."

"My father killed my mother," Leslie muttered, a fresh stream of tears racing down her face, "He shot her once in the head right in front of me. She had come into my room one night and he was there. She told him to stop like she had so many times before. It was what caused a lot of their fights and a lot of her bruises. She said stop and he did. He left and went to his room where he got his gun and shot her. He told her he was fed up of her telling him what to do. I didn't even scream. It was like I knew it was going to happen. He gave me the gun and walked out. The next thing I knew the police were asking me to give them the gun. I was never charged. The DA didn't even consider it."

Leslie was sobbing quite fluidly by now, Casey was hardly able to make out her words, but what she had understood left her shocked and numb. Unable to speak, Casey reached down and took one of Leslie's hands, rubbing it gently with her thumb. After a few moments, the brunette sat up and curled into the fetal posistion, rocking back and forth slowly. In a motherly manner, Casey wrapped her arms around the sobbing attorney and shushed her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, "you didn't deserve that."

Casey felt a pair of shaking hands clasp her arms as Leslie shifted and cried into her shoulder. The ADA could think of little else to do that sit there, holding the woman until she stopped crying.

About half an hour later, Leslie pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Wanna talk?" Casey asked knowing that hadn't been the whole story. Leslie nodded a couple of times in response.

"I was five when it started. I don't know why, but he came into my room and lay down next to me in my bed. It was like that for a few weeks, he'd just sleep in my bed after beating the shit out of my mother for some reason or another. Then, one night, he said he wanted to show me how much he loved me. He told me it wouldn't hurt a bit and instantly, I knew it would. I was eight when mother first caught him. She came into my room after waking up from being knocked out to make sure I was okay. They started yelling and he shoved her into the wall. She broke her wrist, but he really didn't care." The tears were still flowing down her face and Casey could tell she was doing her best to hold back the nerve wrecking sob that was threatening at the back of her throat. "When I was nine, that's when he shot her. He acted so sad at the funeral. After that, he started doing to me what he did to her, beating me unconscious. I began missing a lot of school and my teachers always looked at me sadly. Once, a councilor asked how my home life was. I said it was fine, all things considered. When I was sixteen, he got himself so drunk I locked myself in the closet to try and save myself. He was always a heavy drinker, but that time, I was more than frightened. A police officer came to the house that evening saying that he had died. Casey, you have no idea how much relief I felt, knowing he was gone, I was safe. I...I felt so guilty for thinking that, but it was true. I spent the next two years living with an aunt in California. I never told her what really happened to her sister, but I think she knew it wasn't my fault."

Casey could feel the fragile body she held shake and shiver violently beneath her grip. "Of course it wasn't your fault," Casey murmured into her ear as she felt some of her own tears slide down her cheek, "none of it was. And, now you get the chance to face your demons. Leslie, if this guy's really guilty, you'll have no problem putting him away for good."

Leslie looked up a little. "I chose this path because I never got to see real justice for my mother. Sometimes, I wonder if this is the right thing for me to do."

"It is," Casey assured her, "It is, and you're wonderful at it."

"Thanks, Case." Leslie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and pulled out of the embrace.

/II\\

An hour later, the two walked out of Cragen's office, both looking like they'd been crying pretty hard. Elliot looked up from his desk and smiled warmly at them. Leslie was still leaning slightly against Casey for support and neither woman seemed to mind. Casey found it half amusing that they both lived by the 'show no weakness' policy and yet, here they both were looking very emotionally raw.

"You both feeling better?" Cragen asked. Casey realized that what had happened in his office had not only been good for Leslie, she finally got to get that secret off her chest, but that it had also been good for her as well. Cragen, the knowledgable one, had the look in his eye that told Casey he knew it would be.

"Yea," Leslie said while Casey simply nodded.

Leslie let go of Casey and moved towards Fin and Munch. "Sorry about earlier," she said, her gaze casting to the ground. She had left the interrogation room after only a few minutes with the excuse that she had to make a call. Naturally, she hadn't returned and she really hoped she hadn't blown things for the detectives.

Munch shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I don't even think the creep knew any better. Besides, it got him talking about women. Guy's got a pretty sick mind when it comes down to it."

Casey heard Leslie's sigh of relief and smiled in spite of herself. "So where are you on that case, then?" she asked to change the subject a little.

"We think he's our guy," Fin said, "He's into the mind that women were made to do what he wants them ta do. Doesn't give a damn one way or the other what happens so long as he's satisfied. Liv just finished talkin' to Faith. The girl didn't say who molested her, but she pointed on the chart where a man had touched her."

"Was Faith taken by Social Services?"

"Yea. Like Hell we wanted her going home with that bastard whether he did it or not, he's a shitty dad."

Casey nodded slowly as she saw Leslie turn away. Trying not to call attention to the woman, she turned to Cragen. "I assume you let him go?"

Cragen nodded. "Not much else we could do. Huang and Liv are going to try to get more out of Faith, but Huang doesn't want to push her, and neither do I."

"Right," Casey said with a singular nod, "When you need us, call?"

"Of course," Cragen answered in an understanding manner.

"Thanks," Leslie said. She and Casey turned and walked out of the office.

Once they had reached the outside world, Leslie turned to Casey. "Thank you," she said, "for not saying anything to them."

"It's up to you when you tell. The case is shut and I'm thinking you aren't fond of tearing it open again to get no where, but I really think you should tell someone. There'll be a new investigation, but perhaps it won't only be your mind that's the only thing relieved." Casey ran her hand through her hair again and looked at Leslie. "The office?"

"Yes, I have some work to get done." Leslie paused but didn't respond to the case. "Hey, Case?"

"Yea?"

"Can I ask you such a horrible favour?"

"Whatever it is, it can't be horrible."

"Try the case with me. I know Arthur assigned it to me, but I really can't do this alone." Leslie's brow furrowed as she looked at Casey with a frightened look on her face.

For a few seconds, Casey thought in silence. "Alright," she said, "I'll work with you, but I really think you ought to do the talking in court. I'll be there with you, but this is your case. You're trying it." She raised an eyebrow and gave Leslie one of her stern mother-like looks.

"Agreed. Thanks." 


	9. Bleed Like Me

_Wha. Repost. I didn't think about this. Normally, my chapters are long- really long as in you wouldn't want to stare at your computer so long, long. I've shortened them down so they're easier to read, but that makes them a lot harder to follow. (As ficfan graciously pointed out! Thanks, I wasn't even paying attention.) So, the next 'chapter' after this will start to explain a few things. The chapters from my one to my five is all one chapter (so, ch. 2-6 on the drop down menu.) Chapter Six to Nine (7-10) is the second chapter. The chapter following this will begin to tie in all this background I've given you. I hope that helps put things on track a bit more. I need to work on weaving in background information from the beginning. I will, I swear! lol. Hopefully my next fic will be better organized. Thanks for staying aboard so long!_

Chapter Eight: Bleed Like Me

Leslie lay her head on Casey's lap, dozing in and out of sleep. The Assistant District Attorney's hand stroked the brunette's thin hair, working out the knots. After the episode at the precinct, Casey had invited her companion to dinner to cool down and talk about the case they would be trying in a few days. Neither had wanted to go home to an empty apartment, so both had gone to Casey's for coffee. Now Leslie was half-asleep on her lap and Casey didn't want to wake her up. Therefore, she decided that she wouldn't. If the woman stayed, she was quite welcome to do so. Casey really didn't want to spend the night in an empty apartment.

"Casey?" an exhausted voice met the prosecutor's ears and she looked down to see Leslie's head tipped so that she was looking up at her.

"Hm?" Casey redirected her thoughts to the woman just waking up.

"If you see people dying- when you first see them- and I mean being murdered, but you never act on that, never murder, never come close, are you still a psychopath? Hypothetically of course," Leslie asked, a shread of fear flashing briefly in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed as she paused. It was an odd question, but not one she was totally unfamiliar with. The idea behind it she had mulled over again and again, especially after Olivia had confessed to her that she had never been close to her mother growing up because she could never figure out why she was hated. It had made Casey wonder if she could cope with a product-of-rape-child of her own without tramatizing the child. "What's the reality of this situation?"" she asked after a few long moments.

"Do you think Faith will abuse her kids?" The question was soft and timid making Casey realize she was seeing a side of the Associate DA that she had never seen before.

"You mean do I think you will abuse your kids?"

Leslie nodded slowly. "If I get the urge to hit my kid, but I don't act on it, am I still a good mother? I know I shouldn't get the urge to begin with, no matter what a kid does, but statistics say I might. What then?"

"I wish I could tell you," Casey answered, "have you considered a psychologist?" She knew it might sound harsh, but when Leslie didn't flinch away, she figured that it hadn't been taken cruelly.

"I have before," she confessed, "Arthur told me to go see one after that case you had shortly after Alex 'died'."

Casey knew what case Leslie was talking about. At the point, she hadn't been the girl working with her, but the new prosecutor in New York and friend of Alexandra Cabot. Arthur had told Casey to take her under her wing for a month or so to see how she did. Casey had and then Leslie disappeared for a while before returning as her Associate. The woman sucked in a small breath. Leslie hadn't been around when it was announced Alex was still alive, but she had been told since the entire state of New York now knew she was in witness protection and Leslie had known Alex as well.

"I guess I'm less worried about me because of my sister." The words were in a whisper and Casey was barely able to catch them.

Her eyes went wide. "You never said anything about a sister," she stated the obvious for lack of anything else to say.

"She changed her name after Dad died. I haven't talked to her in a year, but I spent a long time with her a few years ago. She has violent tendancies and a son of thirteen. I gave him my number and told him to call me if anything happened. She called, blaming me for the fact that social services took him. She never did like me for becoming a prosecutor. That was the last time I spoke to her. But, if she's capable of that, I am as well." Leslie stopped talking, tears biting at the corners of her eyes that made Casey's heart break. From what she now knew about her detectives and now about her associate, she wondered if there was something to what psychologists were saying. To her, it seemed those with bad backgrounds either became criminals themselves or else worked against the criminals.

"Casey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be unloading on you."

"Her son is your brother," she said numbly. It was one thing to be on the outside prosecuting, but to be on the inside, to be working on your own case or a mirror of the past, was so different and deadly. Casey was only beginning to comprehend, really comprehend. Before, she would sympatize with the victim, it being always hard for her to imagine the motive some of the assailants when they did what they did. Now, she could empathize with some of them and that frightened her more than anything.

"Yes," Leslie said turning her head away and sitting up.

She was feeling a little slow, the apology only just reaching her comrehensive mind. "Don't worry about unloading," she said softly, "Everyone needs someone." Subtly, Casey sucked in her lower lip and bit it, hard.

The brunette rose. "I should go, thank you for listening."

"Stay."

Casey paused. Where the Hell had that come from? She had no idea why she had just asked Leslie to stay, but she thought maybe it had something to do with being alone.

"It gets too quiet here, and I imagine there's too much time for thought in your place, too," she continued quickly, "I can sleep on the couch. I just..." She trailed off. Just what? She just... couldn't handle the silence, the absence of the familiarity of the yells that had been there since Steven moved in, the absence of the whimpers she had become acostumed to but said it was fine, had denied what was going on until very recently.

Leslie seemed to understand because she nodded. "Alright," she said, "I'm inclined to agree with you about the silence." She stood awkwardly. Neither woman wanted to be alone after being ripped raw by their own fears. Even though Casey had said nothing, she felt as if someone had thrown her under a shower of hot water and scrubbed her skin raw. Bleed like me, she thought biting back the desire to participate in the share party they were having.

"I have pajamas you can wear," she said, "I can run you by your place on the way to the office tomorrow."

"Thanks," Leslie said as Casey walked into her room. She followed; the light patter of feet told Casey the brunette was behind her.

Without a word, she pulled out a pair of pink Victoria's Secret cotton pants and top. It had clearly hardly been worn since its purchase, and Casey caught Leslie's raised brow. "Don't ask," she said thinking that the woman was making an unspoken comment about the fact that the prosecutor who played softball and was unwavering in court and could be so hard shopped at Victoria's Secret.

Curiously, Leslie looked over Casey's shoulder as the woman rumaged through her drawer looking for a particular pair of pajamas. "What's wrong with these?" Leslie asked as a deep blue sleep tank and a pair of black pants with a deep blue leafy design on the hems hit the floor.

"Short sleeved," Casey said without thinking.

"And..." Leslie led her a little.

Casey jumped. "And... I like long sleeves," she recovered as the colour in her cheeks burned. Leslie gave her a skeptical look but said nothing. She supposed long sleeves weren't entirely necessary since what was left of the finger bruises that had become as familiar as her whimpers had faded over the half week she had been free. Still, it seemed easier to her to just wear the long sleeves she preferred. It occured to her that something might be wrong, but as it stood, she hardly felt as if she could oppose it, not because she was weak, but because there was something else that made her stay, a nagging feeling. As long as she could lie to herself and not get into too many deep conversations with Leslie, she figured it would all work out.

"I'll let you change in here," Casey said, "and I'll go into the bathroom unless you want to shower." The woman figetted with the gray and blue pajamas she had found.

"I'm alright," Leslie said. Casey nodded and vanished into the bathroom.

Five minutes later, the woman stepped out of the bathroom to see Leslie laying on the couch, once more half asleep and looking restless. "You okay here?" Casey asked indicating the couch.

"Thank you so much," she said with a smile. Leslie sat up.

Casey held out a large white comforter. "It gets cold sometimes." Leslie took the blanket and wrapped it about her. "If you need more, there's a few blankets in my closet. Either wake me or feel free to find them yourself." Casey shrugged slightly. "What ever suits you."

"Thank you, again, and so much." Leslie lay back down, her head on the couch pillow. "Good night, Casey."

"Good night, Leslie." Casey smiled once and disappeared into her bedroom.

She was semi-conscious when the door to her room opened and a soft light danced through the frame. Deciding it was Leslie getting more blankets, Casey didn't move, she stayed still as if she were completely sleeping. The closet door slid on its track and she heard the tug of cloth on cloth as Leslie presumably tried to pull free another blanket.

A small yap made Casey sit up straight as a wooden container Casey stored a few creams in that she would rather not look at daily fell to the floor nearly knocking Leslie to the floor. "Ow," she hissed but apparently realized that Casey was awake. "Sorry, Case," she said blushing.

"It's okay," Casey said sliding out of the bed to pick up the bottles that had fallen and scattered before Leslie could get a good look.

Leslie picked up a couple of the bottles before Casey's quick clean-up got to them. "Case, what's this?" she asked.

"My medical kit," she said reaching for the bottle in Leslie's left hand. Immediately, that was the one Leslie moved out of the woman's reach. Of course, Casey should have figured as much as Leslie took a step into the light to look at the bottles.

"I know what this is," she said after a brief glance at the bottle. Casey watched as the other's brow furrowed deeply. "It's almost completely gone, Case." As if reading Casey's mind, Lelsie did the thing she feared the most. She turned the bottle over and read the manufacture date and the expiration date.

"You bruise a lot?" she asked suddenly, "This was produced at the beginning of September. I understand why you would have it because of the beating... but even from that, it should be mostly full." Casey cringed. Leslie had seen the tape from Jakeson's house and it had killed her to have her co-worker see it. She'd had bruises lining her body for a week. The cream had really taken the sting from the black and blue marks. But, she had used less than a fourth of the bottle during those times.

After a moment to collect her thoughts, Casey answered. "I'm a bit of a klutz," she said attempting to snatch the bottle again. She knew she was acting too defensive about this, but for whatever reason, she couldn't bring herself to cool down about it.

Leslie pulled the bottle away again. "You always seem so graceful."

"I'm a good actress," she said then bit her tongue, literally so that it bled into her mouth. Truth was, though, that's what she had been doing for a while now in so many different ways. She was unhappy and she didn't know why so she didn't show it. She was raped and hadn't said a word, acted like nothing had ever happened. Steven was starting to scare her, and it went beyond the profanities and the shaking that she had only just started admitting was actually happening to her.

It didn't matter what she said now, Leslie was giving her the 'I-know-what-you're-thinking' look that had made a lot of people confess in front of her. Casey was a little more immune to it. "Make nothing of it," she said, "because that's not where I got the bruises from."

"I didn't say a word."

"You looked it."

"If not him, then where? And don't say you're a klutz." Leslie handed the bottle to Casey who then put it in the medicine box.

"I've been getting into fights with an old friend of mine," she half-lied. She had been getting into fights with Sarah, her crack addict friend from college. Sarah had thrown a few punches leaving marks, but instead of filing anything, Casey had fought back. It had been the only way to get through to her in college and remained that way. "It's been the only thing that made her realize her mistakes since I've met her. She hits you, and she really thinks that the way to prove to her you love her is that you through a few back." There you go, Casey, she thought bitterly, retreat to the safety of second person. Luckily, Leslie hadn't as much background in psycology as Casey had- even though she didn't have much.

"What's she done?"

"Off record, she's a crack addict and I found out a short while ago she's been living on the streets. I went to her to help her. She moved into a small apartment in Alphabet City. I've been working on getting her a job. Convincing her of that is a lot harder than I thought it would be." At least that part was the total truth. The marks Sarah left were never as dark as the other marks she got, and Casey never left dark marks on Sarah. The bruises lasted two days tops, but if it got Leslie to relax for a while, at least until Casey figured out things for herself, then it was well worth the little bit of a lie.

Leslie appeared a little happier to have an answer because she didn't press further. "Alright," she said, repeating her word, the word she used when she was either satisfied or gave-up. As it were, Casey didn't know which had occured, the tone was unrevealing.

Casey jumped as her cell phone went off. It was the little jingle she had programmed that let her know that it was one of the detectives calling from the precinct. "Hello?" she asked into the phone after flipping it open and sitting on her bed. "No. No problem. I'll tell her. We'll be there in a few minutes." She hung up the phone and looked to Leslie.

"Cragen. Benson and Stabler were alerted to Hanson's attempted suicide in the detention centre. Looks like he's going to try to plead not guilty by reason of mental disorder. Damn him, but it only makes him look more guilty to me. He's apparently started going off. What he's saying is apparently important. Huang's there already, they just need us," Casey explained quickly as she moved to her closet.

Without thinking about it, she pulled two suits from the closet, both long pants with a jacket. One was black and the other a dark gray. From the other side of the closet, she took out two blouses, one white and one black. "Right," she said with a sigh, "pick one."

Leslie had an amused look on her face. "I'll go with gray and black," she said picking up the black blouse and dark gray suit. This time, she didn't wait for Casey to move, but went into the bathroom herself. Casey followed her with her eyes until the door shut. She was curious but said nothing.

Instead, she changed quickly into her clothes and was waiting for Leslie at the door, briefcases in both hands, one hers and one Leslie's. She didn't know how long they would be at the precinct, but it was four in the morning and Casey didn't think she'd be back after to get sleep or pick any of her work up. It worried her that Leslie was taking so long, but when she came out of the bathroom ten minutes after disappearing into it, Casey didn't question it. The clothes fit her almost perfectly since Casey was still able to wear her normal clothes. They were a little tight around her midsection, but she wasn't quite ready to admit she needed maternity clothes even as far along as she was. She was still skinny and could pass of as putting on a little weight still.

"Finally," Casey joked opening her apartment door for Leslie and handing her the briefcase in her right hand.

"What can I say, I'm slow at dressing." She laughed a little and they headed down the hall to Casey's car.

/II

By the time casey and Leslie arrived, Hanson was in the middle of making a full confession about murdering his wife.

"And you need us?" Leslie asked Cragen as the two women stood beside him on the other side of the two way mirror from Hanson and Stabler.

"There's more. If Stabler can keep him talking, I think you'll be waking some judges." Cragen answered as Olivia joined them.

"Damn..." she muttered as Hanson told Elliot how he planned out the murder of his wife. The only reason the kids were involved, and Kitty Hanson hadn't been murdered at the home was because they had come home early from a sleepover at their neighbors.

"Those bitches all deserved to die," Hanson spat as he finished up.

"Really?" Elliot said struggling to keep back his anger, "and you deserve to go with them."

Huang stepped in before Elliot did something he would regret. Casey remembered covering for his ass more than once. Stabler was a good detective, but very emotional. "John, who deserved to die?" he asked in his soothing tone.

"All of them," he answered not breaking eye contact with Elliot.

"Who?"

"Don't answer that," Hanson's lawyer jumped in.

"Those women. They all led me on. They fucking played me. They got what was comin' to them, though."

"How many?" Huang was taking over a little while Elliot coolled down on the other side of the table.

His lawyer tried again, "Don't answer," but was cut off abruptly.

"Seven. Seven bitches including Kitty."

On either side of Don Cragen, the two prosecutors exchanged a glance. "Find out where," Casey said, "and we'll wake the judges."

Elliot seemed to hear them through the glass even though it was impossible. "Where? Where, you sick bastard, did you kill them?"

John Hanson gave a sick smile that made Casey blanche and gag causing Olivia, Leslie, and Cragen to look at her concerned. "They're burried in my basement," he said with a twisted grin that sent shivers down Casey's spine.

Leslie nodded. "I'm on it," she said to Cragen's unspoken request. By the time she disappeared out into the hall, Leslie already had her phone open scrolling for the number of one of the judges who wouldn't mind being woken a little early.

"Sick bastard," Olivia hissed through clenched teeth. She was still in a lot more control than Elliot was and Casey wondered as to the purpose of not pushing the buttons she knew would be pushed if a woman walked into the room. They'd gotten a confession, though, even with Hanson's lawyer pacing the back of the room telling him not to answer.

"You realize you're in a lot more trouble now than you were before, Mr. Hanson," Elliot said regaining his composure.

"I really don't care." Hanson was now acting like a stubborn child.

"We'd like to talk with the ADA on this case," the lawyer said clearly hoping for a deal.

"That can be arranged," Elliot answered.

As if on cue, Leslie returned with a smile that told Casey she had the warrent secured and Casey nudged her over to the door to the interrrogation room.

"That was fast," Hanson's lawyer looked up in surprise as the two women walked in. "Whoa. Hold on a second. Why are both of you in here?" His brow furrowed. It was well known amoung the defense lawyers for the sick and twisted that when Novak and McIntyre worked a case together it had never come back an aquittal. "I thought Miss McIntyre was working this."

"She was," Casey answered simply, "but now we both are. Problems?"

"No." Like he had any other choice.

"Lemme guess," Leslie said since it was her case to head, "you want a deal. And, as much as I would rather see the death penalty in New York for creeps like you, I think I might be able to offer you one.We'll chat, and I'll see." Casey knew Leslie was looking for a way to not go to court on this one. There was more than one reason for it. For one, it didn't allow Hanson to plead insanity. The other was slightly more personal, though only Casey picked up on it.

Hanson sat up a little straighter and his lawyer looked more alert as Leslie began to ask Hanson a lot of the same questions Elliot had. Quietly, Casey excused herself and she and George Huang left the interrogation room. They stood with Cragen watching Leslie work. It hadn't been uncommon for Casey to leave Leslie alone for a while with a police officer and the defendant so she could begin to feel at ease doing things by herself. This time, though, her purpose wasn't to teach, but to learn.

Olivia had left the precinct with Fin and Munch according to the captain to go to the house to search for the buried bodies the man had claimed to have hidden.

"Doc," Casey said, "what do you think?"

"If he's willing to take a plea, go for it. I went through his medical history and despite the fact that no one has diagnosed him, he's likely going to be if you take him to court," Huang explained what Casey almost expected to hear.

"You're usually against locking the insane ones in a prison. Why the change of heart?" Cragen asked with a raised brow.

"No change, I assure you. But, I really don't think anything's wrong except for the fact that he enjoys killing women." Huang looked through the glass as Leslie's brow furrowed. Something was off, Casey decided, but she didn't know what.

A little worried, she opened the door to the room and stepped back inside just as Leslie was asking, "How do you know that?"

"We dated on and off for a few years," Hanson replied, "she left me for some rich guy in Tenessee, but when he died, she came back to me. I didn't want her by then, but I let her in. She lived with me nearly a year while I decided how I ought to do off with her."

Casey gave Leslie the little eyebrow raise that said "You can deal now." Leslie nodded once in response. "Mister Hanson," she said after a long pause, "we chatted and I think I might have a plea bargain to interest you."

"Yeah, what?" Hanson asked as his lawyer shushed him.

"Seven counts Man Two, served consecutively," Leslie offered.

Hanson looked outraged and cut in before Leslie could say any more. "What? I'll be in my eighties by the time I get out."

"At least you'll be living," Casey said with a raised brow as she settled into the look that could scare the shit out of people, "that's more than you can say for those women you killed."

Hanson seemed to consider this. "We'll even request that you room at Riker's, stay close to your parents so they can visit." Sold. Casey looked at her co-worker impressed that she knew what buttons to push on this one. The man never grew up, he loved his parents and lived down the street from them. Rikers was a three hour drive from their house. The other prison was more than eight.

His lawyer hesitated for a moment, obviously seeing their insanity defense going as Hanson acted less like the insane man he was meant to be and more like the normal man he was. "You should take it," he said, "it's a good deal."

Hanson nodded. "Fine. I will. On one condition."

"What?"

"If anything fucked up happens to me, you move me from Rikers."

"Alright," Leslie agreed, "if someone tries to kill you in Rikers, we'll move you." Casey noticed how she was watching her exact words. Damn girl could find a loop hole in anything, and if that was went down for the plea, if anyone outside of Rikers tried to kill him, it wouldn't matter, and if he moved from Rikers, that part of the deal was null and void. There were a few other holes that she had placed in the deal already and Casey could help but be proud of Leslie.

"Kay," Hanson said.

/II

"You did good," Casey said as they left the precinct.

"Thanks." Leslie put a little skip into her step for a couple of feet them calmed down. "Hey, Case, are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I think. Though, I wouldn't mind running through it once more. On the bright side, we both have a plan going into this."

"Push the right buttons," Leslie said, "and answer my questions, and it'll be fine. I can't imagine that the defense is going to ask anything unexpected."

"Nor can I." Casey paled a little. Jakeson's trial was the following day and she really wasn't looking forward to it. It was something she had been dreading for the past week, at least since the trial date had loomed too close for comfort. She told herself to swallow it. Women faced their rapists everyday in court. This would be just like that, and if they could do it, the prosecutor had better be able to.

Leslie stopped at the car. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Les, how long have I been telling victims to testify. I can't back out. The man deserves to go to prison for not only raping one woman, but all five that have come forward. We know he raped more, but if he can get gone on five, that's better than none."

"I'd rather have pleaded him for who and where the woman was," Leslie grumbled sliding into the passenger seat.

"But you couldn't because he's not talking. Leslie, you did your best, but he's obviously not going to give her up." Casey sat down in the driver's seat and started the car.

Traffic was slow and the conversation revolved mostly around Casey's testimony the following day. Both women felt prepared verbally for it, but mentally, Casey knew she might freeze up. She was scared as Hell about the entire thing and didn't know what to do about it. There was nothing she could do about it.

A phone went off, the vibrating alert telling Casey that it wasn't hers. Leslie looked at the ID on her phone and shrugged. "No idea," she told Casey as she flipped it open.

"Hello," she said into the reciever, "Leslie McIntyre." Her face quickly drained of colour as the person on the other line spoke. Casey could hear the garbble, but the exact words, even the tone, were lost to her. Instantly, she was worried, but she didn't say anything as she continued to drive waiting for Leslie to hang up.


	10. Putting Two and Two Together

Chapter Nine: Putting Two and Two Together.

ficfan: lol. It is confusing. But, here's where this little tangent connects to the story line. It was sorta in there all along, but I don't think I introduced it soon enough to ease the confusion. I'll have to work on that. Maybe I'll try this slightly different style. If it helps, let me know. If it doesn't let me know as well and I'll rework this one. Yay. Thanks. -Lady

All: Sorry it's so short. I didn't want to make too much out of this, but it definately helps! Tell me what you think, please? -Lady

Leslie stayed silent on the phone for a good five minutes. She was in complete shock about the entire one-sided conversation. After a moment, she hung up and stared out the windshield, not really seeing where Casey was driving.

"Leslie," her head turned to look at her mentor. This was too sick, too wrong, and so much more disgusting than she could have imagined it being. How did the world turn the way it did and people still survive?

She blinked a few times, completely mute and terrified. It took her a good half of a minute to realize that Casey was looking for a response. "Yes'm?"

"The phone call, what was that about?"

"Oh," she stammered, "um. Well." She felt thirteen again, caught in a lie to her father, even if it wasn't a lie. "What say you try the case I'm involved in and I try the case you're involved in?" The words from her mouth seemed meek even to her, like she was finally showing off the weakling that she was.

"What?" Casey's surprise was evident, "You had better be explaining yourself." Despite herself, Leslie smiled. This was what she admired about her mentor. The woman could be shocked beyond belief and still hold a tone of authority.

"Hanson. That was his lawyer. Pro-bono get ups tend to get scared easy, but he sounded freaked. He put me on to Hanson and the guy went off about my sister. He said he thought it was funny, what she had done. He just wanted to congratulate me about having such a fine family." Leslie blinked, she felt the thick wave of pure and total comprehension over flow her mind. "Casey, drop me off here, please. I have to go somewhere."

"Stop it," Casey snapped, "You're acting like a criminal." The brunette noticed that she pulled over anyway.

"I'm not, yet, that's why I have to talk to your detectives. Casey, please don't follow me and don't snoop. Please." Leslie begged through the window. When Casey nodded she offered a shakey smile and left in the direction that they had come from, already dialing a number on her cell phone.

"Amanda," she said into the phone when a familiar voice answered. "Look, please, talk to me. What the Hell have you been up to?" Leslie checked behind her and discovered Casey had pulled away. "No. Amanda, you have to tell me. You could be in a lot of shit right now according to a John Hanson." She paused, resisting the urge to pull away from the earpiece. Of course, leave it to Amanda to over react to a name. Although, Lelsie had to admit that she was really wierded out. "Amanda, I don't care if you date scum in your spare time. Tell me where you are and why he's calling me about you. Tell me now goddamit." She was yelling into the phone now, but no one stopped to look. It was a pretty normal sight on the New York street.

"No," she said pausing, "Just, tell me wh..." A short beep emitted from her phone signaling that the other end had been disconnected. She cursed beneath her breath. If only the woman would answer her questions, Leslie wouldn't feel like she was betraying her family. Though, perhaps in a way, she was.

"Fine. If you won't talk," she muttered to the phone, "I know someone who will." She flipped it open again hitting the speed dial that connected her to Cragen's office.

"Captain? I need to speak with Stabler or Benson. They're the ones working Casey's rape case, right?" She was speaking like a lawyer now, not like the frightened woman she was a few seconds ago.

"Olivia," she said as the woman came onto the line, "Hanson called me. He used his one phone call to reach me. Yes, I know. No. No. Look, I'm on my way to the precinct. I'll be there in fifteen if you can be. I think I have a lead in Novak's case. I need to run it by you, but I really want to run it by Hanson. He withheld this information for a reason. I want to know why. Yes, Olivia, that's exactly what I'm saying. No." She felt the anger slip into her voice again. "Let's talk face to face. I don't want the wrong people to overhear." She hung up without waiting for an answer.

Less than fifteen minutes later, she was standing in Cragen's office with Don, Elliot, and Olivia. "Why'd he call you?" Stabler immediately went into an interrogation as if she were a suspect.

A little hurt, she addressed the Captain instead. "Hanson's lawyer called and put Hanson on. He babbled for a while about the women then told me my sister was nearly one of them. She moved out before he could execute his plan." She watched everyone's eyes go wide. "I really hate to do this because my sister is my sister, but Hanson implicated that she was involved with Casey's rape."

It clicked with Olivia first. "Do you have proof?"

"Aside from his implication and my sister's issues with those working in the justice system, there's no reason I can think of why she'd be involved. That's why I want to talk to Hanson again. He knows something, but he didn't bait me in front of you. I want to hear what he knows. Promise him something in return for good, solid information that checks out." She was nearing a breakdown. Anger, dispair, and pain boiled just beneath the surface of her cool visage and she couldn't help but think that she might be making a huge mistake. The last place she wanted to be was in the precinct right now, but if her sister was as involved as Hanson had said, she wanted to put her where the Hell she belonged. In lock up- padded white room or penitentiary.

"Guys, I need something solid to base this off of. If it turns out to nothing, then it's nothing. If it turns out to be the truth, then I want her brought to justice, kin or not."

"Leslie," Cragen said, "you need to slow down. We'll bring Hanson back up here as soon as we run a few things, but I want you to stay out of the interview as long as possible. You need a plan, and you came here without one." He put a hand on her shoulder and she took a deep breath.

After a few seconds of silence, she looked up. "Alright, I'm good," she announced to the stunned little group. The world was a small place and getting smaller by the moment. Of course, now that Leslie thought about it, she was seeing all sorts of connections. Amanda hated cops and lawyers, and all the ones willing to testify and a great deal of those raped that Leslie could recall were either her good friends or Casey's or Alex's or one of the three women had worked briefly with them. It was too much of a coincidence for her. In her head, she was already convinced that Amanda was guilty of it, but she couldn't understand why. Two blood sisters had turned out so different, how?

"Amanda," she said shakily, "Amanda Hart. She might also be going by Amanda McIntyre or Julia McIntyre, her birth name." Leslie blinked hard a few times to keep emotion back. "If you find her, don't tell me where she is. I might regret knowing." That said, she walked out of the precinct, no one bothered her on the way out. The woman knew she looked like a mess and didn't try to fix it as she walked quickly out into the gray New York weather. At least the weather felt like she did.

Outside of the precinct, she waved a taxi. After a few brief minutes, one pulled up to the curb and she climbed in.

"Where to?" The driver asked looking in his mirror. Leslie noticed he was a stocky man, maybe five foot five when standing. Lightly tanned skin and dark blue eyes. She didn't know why she noticed, or why it suddenly interested her when so often the world passed her mind like a blur, only a few points sticking out sharply.

"The pier, please," she said as she settled back into the seat and stared out the window.

/II\\

She stood still, not wanting to move. A cool breeze washed over her body alieviating the aches and pains if only for one moment. Nothing better, nothing worse, right? At least, she hoped. The good, she was damn certain Casey's pain would be put in jail. The bad, it was her own sister. Leslie felt a guilt she had only ever heard of. This was her responsibilty. She was supposed to look after her older sister, that was her duty. She had sworn it to her when their father had died. She had promised, and she had failed, miserabley.

"Hello," a voice said behind her. Leslie didn't turn, she knew who it was. That was why she had come. "How'd you know?"

"You imply that I don't know my own flesh and blood," Leslie responded calmly.

She heard footsteps and the body of her sister fell into peripheral vision for her. "You always were the genius."

"Why?" Leslie ignored Amanda's snide comment.

"I don't understand you. The justice system screwed us six ways to Hell and you can sit there and represent them?"

"It's where my duty and where my heart lie. No one could help us. I don't want that to happen to some other little girls."

Amanda shook her head. "But it does, every day."

"That's why we prosecute those who get caught."

"You mean you and Casey?" Amanda asked though Leslie knew it to be rhetorical.

"You never answered my question."

"I'm giving back to them what they gave us. Hell, torture, and no reason to want to live."

"Why the partner."

"They'd report it, more likely. Cops and lawyers, they know how important it is to report rape, but no one wants to report sexual assault from a woman. Leslie, I'm surprised you even had to ask." Amanda paused and smiled at Leslie, something the lawyer grimaced from. "I was actually surprised Casey never said anything. Even after she found out she was pregnant."

"You've been here all along," Leslie said, shocked as she realized Amanda had been following all of her victim's movements after the fact.

"Your detectives follow any lead."

Amanda picked up Leslie's wrist and examined it for a moment. Leslie swallowed feeling helpless to her sister's will. The guilt wouldn't leave, she couldn't help but blame herself for Casey. It was, after all her fault. A small tear trickled down her cheek and in the next instant, she saw Amanda pull a silver blade from her pocket.

The metal slid into her flesh and she let out a gasp. "Julia," she managed, staring wide-eyed at the suicide cut on her wrist. It was deep and bleeding out fast. Too fast. Leslie felt her head begin to spin as her peripheral vision decayed.

"I love you, sis," Amanda hissed sarcastically before she pushed the woman away. Seconds later, Leslie felt her body hit the water. She opened her eyes, seeing blood and bubbles rise from her and encase her with cold arms before she fell unconscious. 


	11. Broken

_This one's short. Sorry huns. Remember, reviews and suggestions are more than welcomed. _

_Lady_

Chapter Ten: Broken

Casey stared wide-eyed at the body bag at the base of the hill. Half of her wanted to run down to the bag and unzip it, shake her best friend until she opened her eyes. The other half watched the Chief Medical Examiner spoke with the detectives she worked with on a daily basis. It was that half that kept her feet rooted to the pavement as she stood beside the detectives' all too familiar car.

The red light was still flashing on the hood of the car. Earlier, Donald Cragen of the one six had called her telling her that the body of a young woman had been found. He had told her that it would pertain to her case, but he also urged her not to go see. Of course, that only made her want to go more, the fear in her heart pulling her. She had begged, but in the end, she called Olivia and made her detective turn them in. Even Benson had been reluctant, succeding in Casey's hard-headed determenation to see. By then, the woman was certain it was Leslie.

Her second chair had been missing for just under a month, and Casey already knew she was dead. The question was when, where, and how she would turn up. She had tried not to think of her as her friend, but another Jane Doe. It made things easier, but so often she slipped. Her office had been absent of the two most quick witted prosecutors there for three weeks. Casey hadn't been able to stand being there since the first three days, just walking past her associate's desk made her break down.

Olivia looked up and her eyes caught Casey's. "Councilor," she called as she picked her way up the rocks towards the young woman. "You really shouldn't..." She trailed off looking past Casey into the empty street.

"I'm not going down to look," Casey bit back the tears, "I just, it felt wrong being in her apartment. Even if it was improbable, there was that hope she'd return. But now..." Casey choked and looked away. She hated feeling weak in front of anyone else, whether or not she knew them, but especially if she knew them. A stranger she might never see again, but a friend would never forget.

Warm arms wrapped around her, a head resting on her shoulder, the body of the detective making her feel far less cold than the bitter wind and the gray skies above. Casey tipped her head a little so that it fell against the detectives. "We all miss her," Olivia said reaching up and stroking the prosecutor's hair, "And, this bitch, we'll get her."

Casey pulled away. "You think it's a woman?" she asked.

"When we last saw her at the precinct, she was rattling off about her sister. Elliot and I did some digging. Turns out the sister's still here in New York. I can't prove it yet, but my gut tells me she's our murderer." Olivia hesitated and Casey narrowed her eyes.

Knowing someone was hiding something was her specialty. "What, Olivia?" Casey demanded, "what aren't you saying?"

"We talked to Huang. He reveiwed her files- and they're thick as a dictionary. He wants to talk to her one on one, figure her out, but she profiles to be the text-book insane psychopath with an agenda. I guess sisters can turn out on two sides of one mirror." The detective looked towards where Elliot was now talking with M.E. Warner. The man looked up at the women and nodded. "How about I take you home?"

Suddenly feeling too weak to move and too dizzy to drive, Casey nodded. The last thing she wanted was to get herself in an accident on the way to her own place. Olivia placed her hand on the prosecutor's back and steered her to the silver car parked a few feet back.

"Stick?" Olivia said as she sat down in the driver's seat, "Somehow, I didn't imagine you in a manual." She started the car and pulled onto the road before Casey answered.

"Yeah," she muttered after nearly a half minute of silence. Her mind was not in the car, it was not at the riverside. It was flashing through the night five months prior to this date. Exactly five months. Her cheek was pressed against the cold glass as the rain started to fall fast and hard. Tears found their way down the prosecutor's pale cheeks and she buried her face into the seatbelt.

The ride home was silent. Casey didn't even look at Olivia, and the detective didn't ask any questions. A good hour later, Casey looked up wondering where they were and was shocked to find they had parked just outside of her apartment building. "How?"

"Thirty minutes," Olivia interjected, "I asked if you were ready to go home. You didn't respond."

Casey nodded slowly. "Thanks," she said in understanding.

The detective shrugged. After a moment, Casey noticed she was watching her. The lawyer's bobbing movements stopped abruptly, the ceasing the only thing making her conscious of them. "Casey, you seem very nervous," Olivia observed, "like a suspect thinking of a lie."

The implication hit home. "What are you accusing...?"

"Nothing. Casey, nothing, but you've changed so much in the past month. For nearly four months, you were the same woman in the court room, in the bull pen, with the suspects and victims. Recently, you've fallen so far down, I'm not the only one worried." Olivia's brow furrowed slightly, and Casey saw the concern in her eyes that made her want to cry again.

Casey reached over and hugged Olivia, the sleeve of her jacket suit pulling up a little. She said nothing, only smiled slightly and got out of the car. "Thanks, Liv," she said, "for the rides and everything. I'll pick up my car tomorrow from the precinct?"

Olivia shook her head. "I'll make sure it gets to the D.A's office. We need to talk."

"Alright," Casey said, biting her lip as she wondered if she'd just made the right decision or not. Before, Leslie had been the only one who knew, but now she had given Olivia the most non-verbl confession she ever could without exposing her entire thought process.

Novak curled on her couch, the tears blurring her vision as they streamed down her face. Steven arrived home tomorrow night, she knew Olivia knew that little fact, the only reason she didn' t protest to talking the following morning. Steven had been gone so often lately, and Casey had found herself surprised at her happiness of his absence. She hadn't really noticed before, what was going on. It seemed like she wasn't really there any more. She wasn't in her work, she wasn't in her own head. Things had jumped from good to bad so quickly that it had taken this long for the woman to realize that fact. At first, she had thought that the absences from her own head was because of the rape she was only just beginning to remember completely. Before the pictures had been found, the lawyer had no recollection. This blanking out, it had come with the memories.

It was about a week ago, she hadn't blanked out, her memory was perfect of that night. Leslie had weasled it out of her, though Casey had never said anything exact. Just that she was hurt, and Steven would be gone for good soon. Now, Leslie was dead, and the last thing she had told Casey prior to the day of her death was to tell Benson or Stabler. She didn't feel too comfortable talking to her male detective only because he was exactly that, male. She didn't need to feel inferior to a male she worked so hard to feel equal to. She would never let herself.

A knock on the door withdrew her thoughts from herself, the hand on her stomach instantly pulled away as her instinct prepared her to defend herself. After a moment of panick, the young woman realized that she was not about to be harmed. Her muscles relaxed as she rose to answer the door. "Hello," she called, "Who is it?"

Casey straightened her baby blue shirt- she had finally graduated to the maternity clothing, though her stomach was still too small according to her doctor- and opened the door without awaiting an answer. She didn't even think about looking through the peep hole to see who it was; she simply figured it would be Olivia. Needless to say, the face looking back at her almost made her scream. A startled cry was all she managed out before a hand clasped over her mouth and she was being pushed into her apartment.

"It's okay," the deep voice penetrated her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut, the muscles in her arms too weak to fight back.

She felt herself fall against the couch, her knees locking and then being pushed the wrong way as she fell face first into the pillows. Wincing at the soreness, Casey twisted her head to see the man standing above her. "What are you doing back?" she asked, confused and upset.

"Gettin' outta your hair, bitch," he responded as he smacked her across the cheek, "thought you'd like that. After what you told that second of yours. Liar. Whore and a liar. Some mother you'll make."

Casey felt liquid run down her cheeks, these tears not mourning Leslie, these crying in pain. "If you want out, get out," she snarled, bitting her teeth against the pain, "get out and don't come back"

The wrong words. The absolutely imperfect words to say. Her anger had been triggered, and she hadn't even thought about what she was saying. All of the lessons she had learned through her job had flown out of the window. For a moment, she was watching him drag her from the couch towards the door way as if she were a part of the ceiling. She wasn't the kind to believe in guardian angels, but she figured this is what the world must look like to one if they existed. It was a horrible world. But, that's why she was a prosecutor, wasn't it?

By the time she forced herself back into her slack body, Casey was standing with her back pressed against the wall of the hallway, straddling the stairs. His lips were on hers, her hands curled at his chest pushing him away from her. "Gettff," she mumbled into his mouth. He did, but she wasn't prepared for how he let her free.

Hands reached out to catch herself, but the walls held not place she could grab. Her feet crumbled beneath her, the knees no longer willing to support her weight. For the longest second in the world, Casey fell. She saw herself falling and it felt like one of those movies, she was really living in slow motion. Then, her head hit the banister and her world went black.

Somewhere outside herself, Casey saw her body roll down the steps, her body connecting with the wall and crumpling to a splayed position that made her look dead. A loud crack brought her to her senses and her eyes opened slowly, a low moan emitting from her mouth. He was leaning over her, his face next to hers. "Amanda says 'Hi'." And then he was gone.

Her eyes closed as she fought her hardest against the feeling that a broken life was slipping from her grasp. Another low moan escaped her lips once more, and she was completely gone, even the subconscious guardian angel self that was around earlier had vanished in the mists of darkness.


	12. Abandon

**Chapter Eleven: Abandon**

_Katherine: Got it click Thanks. Maybe this'll help a little? Gah! I have so much I need to work on with my writing! I hope you can all bare with me.  
VampirePrincess: Never!  
Always-Lady_

The headache pounding in her ears made her want to cry out in pain, but she didn't. The woman was far too stubborn for that. And, that was exactly what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. As she lay on her back, the young prosecutor thought about the last thing she could remember.

His learing face was crystaline and clear in her mind's eye, and it made her want to vomit just thinking about it. A hand curled around her stomach, feeling the bludge there, much smaller than it had been the last time her palm rested there. In fact, it was almost flat again, the skin melding back to its original shape. She swallowed. This was her fault. He had been there, he had started this, but she had been the idiot who let it go on. She had not only fallen for his pursuit of her, his unending one, she had fallen for his charm and his kindness. His patience with her irrationalities and her job that ended up getting her up in the middle of the night when the detectives made a break.

He had been verbally on her ass from the start, but she kept going back to him, kept falling for him again and again. No matter how many times she told herself to get rid of him, she told herself twice more to keep him, that no one else would come along. She was getting old, after all. Now, she deeply regretted it. She was only twenty nine, after all. There was still plenty of time. But, she hadn't realized that at the beginning.

Barely conscious, the only thing she could feel aside form the pain in her head was the throbbing sensation of being used. Being completely used. Being unloved. He hadn't loved her, and she hadn't really loved him. He'd used her, and she was understanding why. In the silence of her head, the young woman had managed to make sense of several different things, a few of the psycological puzzle pieces were falling into place. Of course, that wouldn't help detectives much. At least it helped her.

She felt a cool hand on her wrist and her eyes falshed open. The nurse standing beside her startled and moved back a few inches. "Well," she said with a smile, "She lives."

Casey groaned as the rest of the pain in her body shot through her. It was pain she hadn't noticed moments ago, but everything was now rushing back to her. "Ow," she whispered, her teeth grinding together.

The nurse was still smiling, but Casey saw that she was changing the bag hanging above her head. After a few seconds, a cool rush enveloped her and her mind went reeling. "Painkiller," the nurse said as Casey's features contorted into confussion. "The doctor will be here in a moment, sweetheart."

The attorney nodded, still unable to find her voice.

By the time the doctor arrived, the pain was gone from her body and she felt as if she was floating. "Ms. Novak," the doctor said looking at her, "Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling."

Casey looked at him, the tears threatening to over flow from her eyes. "Abandoned," she answered, her voice meek and warbbling.

"I don't know the whole story, Ms. Novak," he said, his voice full of kindness Casey realized had never come from Steven, "you'll have to fill me in on the details. The detective who brought you in said she found you in the stairwell of your apartment building."

"Detective Benson?" she asked. When the doctor nodded, she couldn't help but ponder at the re-appearance of the detective when she had agreed to meet the following morning. Perhaps the woman had a better gut instinct than Casey had originally given her credit for.

"I was pushed down the stairs," she said, taking the blame for what happened in her head, "I answered the door, and he came in." Casey shook her head. "Can you call the woman who brought me here?"

The doctor clearly understood what the woman was doing, that she only wanted to speak once. "I already did. She asked me to call her the moment you woke up."

"Thanks," she said, her voice a bare whisper.

She felt his eyes still on her, although she wouldn't look into his face. The thought that this was all her fault wouldn't leave her alone. It plagued and beat at her mind, and she couldn't let it go. Finally, she plucked up the courage to find out what happened. "Why am I in so much pain?" she asked, her mind feeling too jumbled to think of another way to put it.

"You have a few broken bones. Your collar bone is fractured, three bones in your right wrist are broken, and your right ankle is sprained. The most painful, though, is probably your ribs. You broke two on your right side and one on your left. That was some fall, Ms. Novak." As he spoke, he shook his head a little.

She nodded. "My baby?" she asked even though she already knew it was gone.

"I'm sorry," he said as pain filled her eyes. She turned away from him and refused to look back at him. Eventually, he said he would see if the detective had arrived and left.

Casey closed her eyes and let the tears slip through her dark eyelashes, the salt water flowing down her soft, pale skin. She stayed like that for a few minutes, just allowing the tears to fall freely down her face. There was no sense in biting them back. Not only had she been violated, but her stupidity had lead to the violation and the death of even more women. Right now, about all she could hate was herself.

"Casey, honey?" a voice rang through the room that made Casey turn over. The detective was looking down at her. Olivia brushed a stray mass of hair from the lawyers face before pulling up a seat. "How do you feel?"

"I hate myself," she said. Today was her honest day. Whatever day it was.

"This isn't your fault," Olivia soothed.

Arguing was her specialty, and she was damn convinced this was her fault. "Yes, Olivia, it is. That's my point," she bit, her voice cracking a little, "It was Steven. He's the one who pushed me. But... Olivia... he... he said something odd."

"Odd?" Olivia looked earnestly confused.

"Amanda," she whispered, "Leslie mentioned her a little, but I don't understand."

The detective's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped a little. "Casey..." she breathed a strange tone entering her voice the lawyer thought she had never heard before. Not only was it fearful, but there was something she couldn't quite place, sorrowful almost. It sounded how Casey felt, blaming herself.

She cried out. She didn't hear it, but she felt it as it vibrated through her chest. "No," she heard herself after a few moments of sobbing, "no, no, no." Her head shook back and forth violently, the rest of her body trembling between the sterile sheets of the hospital bed. Peripheral version blurred the more her head shook until she couldn't see anything anymore. The word in her mouth kept coming, louder and louder. She felt strong hands on each of her wrists, holding her from falling. Instinct over-rode any sense of reality she had left and she fought harder, screaming and crying, her hips bucking as her knees bent, feet pushing down against the mattress.

A sharp pain in her arm brought cool liquids to her insides. She went limp, crying and panting. Her lips moved as a word whispered from her, the same word over and over.

"What? Casey, what is it?" She heard the voice and felt soft hair against her lips. "Speak up, sweetheart."

Casey complied, though her voice only rose in such a minute way. "Ivia..Ivia..."

"What?" Again, the voice came nicely in her ears, soft and gentle.

"Olivia..." she muttered, "Olivia... help." A sob caught in her throat and the medicine that had been injected in her arm kicked in and she sighed into the subconscious realm once more.

/\\

I backed away from her sleeping form, my solid hand letting go of hers. I was shaking, and I knew it. My breath was unsteady and hesitated violently as I sat in a chair. Hand resting over my thudding heart, I looked at her sleeping form. She seemed so horribly peaceful. The nightmare was still there, still behind her fluttering eyes, but the mouth had gone slack, no longer screaming at some unseen devil. Even her hands didn't move, didn't fight. Everything about her was hauntingly dead. Except for those eyes. They'd darkened in the past five months, darkened evilly, as though plagued by more than just nightmare. It frightened me more than it professionally should have to see her react like that to the terror I had given up in the sound of my voice.

Thankfully, the doctor in the room mistook my fear for a lack of comprehension. It seemed the fact that the sleeping woman had called my name, my name of all things to call, had missed him. Either he didn't understand that it was the same Olivia, or else he had forgotten me as being anyone more than Detective Benson. Just another cop at the hospital, trying to solve another case. The sadness of it hit me then. Being detatched, it solved cases, put rapists and murderers behind bars, but it would never completely consol friends, lovers, sisters, mothers. A virtual impossiblity.

"She'll be alright," the doctor reassured me. I wanted to scream at him that it wouldn't be. It never would be. All of the things we had discovered in the few short days Casey had been absent from the wakened world swam in my head and cursed my soul. Once she knew, Casey would not be 'alright' again for a very long time. Biting my tongue, I only looked at him and nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

When he didn't continue, I knew we held the same level of understanding. Casey had just relived perhaps the most traumatizing portion of what had happened that night. How many nights had the nightmares kept her awake, and how many nights was it the fear of the man who slept beside her?

My gaze returned to Casey and I sat there, holding back my tears. I wished then that she trusted me beyond the trust she held with all of her detectives, Elliot, Fin, Munch, me. I wished she trusted me as a friend. Maybe then, maybe this wouldn't have happened. And, if it hadn't? There was the opposite to think of, perhaps we would never know what we knew today. So far, two attorneys and one uniform had been found murdered. The first was rulled as a suicide, a slitting of the wrist. Warner looked back at it after we found Leslie, though. Same cut, same blade, same depth, too many similarities to be the work of two differnt women. The thrid, the officer, had really hit home. She'd been the one who recommended me to Special Victims.

Amanda, Julia, whatever her name was. She had struck enough fear in Leslie, her own sister had caused her to tremor. And, Jakeson's complete confession to the fact he was not Amanda's only whipping boy, but one of many. The woman frightened me. Her network was larger than that of most drug cartels. Tracking her down, it seemed hopeless. We knew what she looked like, the tapes, though black and white, were easy enough to go one. I realized she was taunting us, teasing us, almost daring us to find her. Doctor Huang had frightened me when he asked how many others had she terrified before she graduated to a sexual fixation on them? No, I had answered, not on them. On the justice system.

The door to the room closed and the tears stinging my eyes could stay back any longer. Slowly, silently, the began to trickle down my face. I felt like the greatest failure in the world. This was why she hadn't come to me. I had failed her when she'd first cried for my help, when that woman and that man had violated her. I didn't dare think about the other times I may have failed her. Was it me she had screamed for when she was hit? Or had she already given up faith and begun calling for someone else? Laying my head on her softly rising and falling stomach, I knew I would never forgive myself for not being there. How long would it take for her to heal? How long before she could forgive me for forsaking her?

/\\

I don't know how long I lay there before I fell into a fitful sleep, but I awoke to a hand on my shoulder. One hand automatically reached for my gun while I searched for the person with my eyes. A long, low breath escaped my lips when I recognized the blurry face of the captain. "Cragen," I muttered as my vision refocused, "what are you doing here?"

His eyes studied my face for a while befor ehe answered. "Elliot called me. He said you weren't picking up your phone and you'd missed meeting him at Carol Langly's." My brow furrowed. I remembered; Elliot and I had talked to a few of Casey's neighbors yesterday. One of them, Mrs. Langly, had asked us to come back today. I didn't know why it had to wait until today, but El and I had agreed. "When you didn't show, we were all worried. Liv, you disappeared. It was Elliot who called the hospital looking for you. Doctor Richards said you were still here."

The only thing I could think at the point was: Oh God. I could understand why they would worry. The woman had gone after police officers as well. She was still loose, and the one officer she had killed had not reported being raped, ever. That didn't mean that she hadn't, but it also screwed up the M.O. we had tried to piece together. "I'm sorry," I muttered, "I...just..." I couldn't say.

He pulled up a chair next to me and sat down. "Olivia," his voice was filled with question, "Perhaps I should take you off this case."

"No." The exclimation in my voice surprised even me so that I jump a little. "Captain, you can't. I." I stopped again, unsure of how much to say. The man was like the father I never had, but I was a big girl, wasn't I? I could take care of myself. And yet, something in his demeanor, in the way he looked at me but said nothing, I had to explain. "I failed her once, I'm not going to fail her again."

"Olivia," he was sterner now, the stuff fathers are really made of, "you couldn't have stopped her from being raped. You couldn't have stopped her from being pushed. You didn't know about the abuse."

Shakily, I looked at the floor. There was no way I could meet his eyes on this one. "She cried out for me to help her today," I whispered, "she didn't know it. The doctor says she was too far gone, she was reliving the rape. She trusted me to be there to help her then, and I wasn't. Then, the day she was pushed, I...I saw a bruise on her wrist, standard abuse, shaped in finger prints. I told her to meet me at her office the following day, but he got to her first. Captain." I looked up to meet his steady gaze. "I could have prevented this. I could have made her stay with me, but I didn't. I didn't even suggest it."

"You had no way of knowing, Olivia. Don't beat yourself up over it." I heard Elliot's voice from the doorway behind me and I turned to look at him, wondering how long he had been standing there. "It won't solve any cases," he added as he walked closer and looked down at Casey. I looked too. The nightmare was gone from her eyes, and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully for the first time in a while.

Cragen rose and left, though not before giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. Elliot and I remained in silence for a moment before he turned to look down at me. "You saved her life," he said, his arms folded over his chest as he sat down in Cragen's empty chair, "how'd you know?"

"I didn't," I answered, "I went back because I felt bad about leaving her alone. She was frightened when I left her." He nodded but said nothing. A stroke of luck had put me in that stairwell probably moments after Steven had left. I closed my eyes, the image of her unconscious body laying there. From the position alone, I knew she had broken a few things. Arms and legs don't naturally bend in that position. She was bleeding from her nose, her mouth. A small cut on her head bled furiously, but it wasn't that deep. After calling for the ambulence, I had looked her over. Once she had come out of the ER, I wasn't surprised when the doctor told me that she had lost her baby.

And, typical of Casey, once she had awoken, her mind was completely on the case. She hadn'tspoken with me about the baby, somethingI would have spoken of. But maybe, she hadn't wanted to. Maybe I was reading too much into this.Part of me realized that she was probably glad it was gone, but the other part remembered how much she had once told me she loved it. I don't know what ever went through her head each night or if she even thought about the baby at all. Next time she woke up, I wanted her to ask, I pleaded silently with her to ask. I looked to Elliot as I realized just how much my own past still effected me even though I had convinced myself and others that I had dealt with it long ago.

"Olivia," a small voice asked and I looked back at the bed. Casey was awake, and I wondered again how long it had been. At least three hours, but I didn't know. Her eyes were wide as she looked at me, as if something had only just occurred to her. "You stayed."

"Of course I did," I answered, "why wouldn't I?"

"I just thought." She shook her head. Whatever she thought, she wasn't going to say.

I hung my head and took one of her pale hands in mine. She was thinner than I rememebered, and whiter. "Casey" -she pulled her hand from mine and I thought maybe I sounded as I had when she had panicked- "when... when you were raped" -I licked my lips before sinking my teeth into the lower one- "what did you say?"

I saw the tears begin to glisten in her eyes, and she turned her head from me. That alone confirmed what I thought. I no longer needed the verbal answer, but she gave one. "I begged them to stop," she answered, choking on a sob, "but when they didn't I...I." It seemed she couldn't answer me. I patted her hand and was about to say something, but she continued. "I called for you to help." She swallowed and turned back to look at me. Her eyes were closed shut, but it didn't stop a stray tear from leaking out one corner.

"I wish I were there," I heard myself whisper before I could stop myself. I would have killed those bastards. "I'm so sorry I wasn't."


	13. Briefcase Hauling Snakes

Chapter Twelve: Briefcase Hauling Snakes 

"Thanks, Liv," Casey said as she hugged her friend/escort for the last time, "for everything. I'll be back once I have my head on straight."

"Final boarding call for flight 1-7-9-3, final boarding call," the load speaker called out. Casey looked about, she was the only one left in the waiting area, and she knew the flight attendant, while patient, was getting a little ansy about closing up the plane. It had been an hour late coming in and was now two hours late in leaving. Just her luck.

Olivia nodded as she pushed the lawyer to the tunnel linking the plane with the gate. "Go," she urged, "don't miss your flight. I'll see you when you get back."

Casey nodded, not trusting herself to speak anymore. Her eyes turned glittery as tears threatened to fall. She only smiled as she made her way to the plane. Her feet and arms felt leaden, and the exhaustion of the past few days didn't help with the feeling of excess weight she was carrying. On the plane, the woman hoped to get at least two hours sleep since the flight to Scottsdale, Arizona was nearly three. The hollow grey rectangle she found herself walking down made her dizzy and cold, the feeling of doom washed over her and pulled at her hands and legs no matter how she tried to fight it. Perhaps it was time for a break down. A good cry, but that would wait until she got to her hotel.

She flopped down in her seat, 17 C, without even realizing she had borded the plane. The faces swam beside her, an older male and a younger female, early seventies and late teens respectively. Casey closed her eyes and the blurring facesvanished in a pool of darkness.

Her dreams were not pleasant during the trip, though by some miracle, she neither screamed nor thrashed. It had begun with her rape, only when she looked into the face of her rapist, she only saw herself, a disturbing thought that made her regret not fighting harder, made her subconscious mind begin to truly punish her. Then, her own image had melted and molded until it was Steven on top of her tired body. Casey felt herself shiver in the conscious realm and coiled tighter to get warm.

With a start, Casey awoke to find that her neighbor had turned his air conditioning on very high and then proceeded to point it primarily at Casey. Gooseflesh had crawled its was over har arms; she could even feel herself shivering in the pit of her stomach. She rubbed her flesh to try and get warm, but it hardly helped. For the first time in a long time, her arms were bare, her jacket folded neatly in the overhead compartment. Scolding herself violently in her head, Casey knew she should have exprected to get cold on the plane, but she had never thought it would be this cold.

Hopeful eyes turned her attention away from the freeze of the air to the world outside. They were already over the city, through the window she could see a few houses with palm trees and swimming pools in their backyards. She was now seriously hoping the little Holiday Inn Arthur had booked her for- it still shocked her that he was helping to fund her escape from insanity, but she always figured he had a soft spot for her somewhere- had a pool she could cool off in. Most hotels here did, she had heard, and she didn't blame them. Even from this altitude, she could she the heat waves coming from the houses.

"Flight attendants, please prepare for landing."

The sound of the pilot's voice coming over the speaker startled her a little and she turned to look through the cabin. Many of the plane's passengers were waking up and fiddling with seats. The girl in the aisle seat held out a pack of gum, offering a piece to her. For the ears, Casey mused as she refused with a 'thank you' and a smile. She had been asleep for a longer period than she had thought. Casey yawned, her ears popping, and she knew they were heading down.

It was odd, she had never really been out of New York before except on a road trip her parents had taken her on when she was in Junior High. Since then, though, she had been a true New Yorker, sticking to the streets of her home world. This was the first time she had really been on an airplane- the time she was barely seven months didn't count- and she had shocked even herself at how calm she had been despite the fact that lately she had been jumpy and twitchy about nearly everything, old or new.

/\

"Hi, um, I have a reservation," she told the desk clerk when she walked into her hotel. Getting here had been Hell. Her map reading skills were not the best, after all, they had never exactly been used. But, she had made it after a good forty minutes on the road, and a strange weight had lifted from her shoulders, one she hadn't even realized was there until it was gone.

The clerk looked at her, a smile on his face. It looked a little too wide and a little too stuck there to be real, but Casey smiled back all the same. "And your name," he said as he opened a new screen on his computer.

"Casey Novak," she said as she pulled her driver's liscence for ID.

His smile turned genuine. "New York," he said, "I love New York."

She was befuddled for a moment and it showed for her clarified, "Your accent, Miss Novak." He took her driver's liscence and typed for a few mintues.

He looked up and gave her back her ID card. "Your room's ready, would you like any help with your bags?"

Casey looked down at her rolling bag sitting beside her. It was normal sized, nothing she couldn't handle. "No thank you," she answered as her gaze returned to him. She added a small smile. She was dying to get out of the jeans she was wearing and tie back her hair. The thermometer outside the hotel had blared in bright red letters that it was ninty-seven degrees. Too hot for a New Yorker. Especially with the dry heat.

"Very well. Room 213, it's on the second floor." He pointed down a hallway. "The elevators are just down that hall. Call if you need anything." He grinned at her before falling back to whatever work she had interupted him in.

Casey thanked him and picked up her bag, pulling it across the floor by the extendable handle. Chewing her lower lip, she waited patiently for the elvator to arrive, though when its arrival was announced by a large ding, she started and jumped back half of a foot gaining an unusual glance from an older woman standing nearby.

The ride was short. Hopefully she would be here only a week or two. She hated hotels. Strangers wandered about, inside the room she slept in. It wouldn't have unnerved her so much had it not been for five months ago, but it did now. Living in an apartment, she was used to seeing barely familiar and unfamiliar people wandering the halls, but when it came down to it, they didn't go through her apartment, and even the maids going through her room made her shiver.

Room 213 wasn't hard to find. In fact, it was only a few yards to the left of the elevator. That suited her just fine. Running the key card through the slid on the door, she pushed the room open and looked about, a sigh escaping her lips. She wanted to call Olivia and tell her that she made it, but they had agreed not to. While she wouldn't be hard to follow to Scottsdale, Casey didn't want to know about the progress of the cases. This kept her entirely out of the loop, and it gave her mind a chance to breathe and allow her to relax.

Without unpacking, she plopped down on the bed. Her dress hadn't been formal on the plane ride, a pair of jeans and a tee shirt with a jacket. Comfortable clothes, and she fell asleep on the hard mattress. It was a deep sleep, a deep, black sleep that didn't afford her any nightmares.

/\

Her eyes blinked open nearly three hours later, the heat of the mid-day sun beating against her face through the hotel window. For a moment, she had no idea where she was and sat up with a startling bolt, heart pounding as her eyes roved about the room. After a few moments of confusion, Casey's memory came back to her and she began to relax.

A knock that echoed from her sleep resounded again and she slid from her bed to the door. Her eye went to the peep hole automatically, as if it were something now embedded into her survival instinct. A woman as old as Olivia and another as young as she weere standing there, smiling. The older women reached into her pocket and Casey felt herself flinch away, though she let out the breath she was holding when she saw the police ID badge. Olivia had said something about officers checking up on her when she was in the hotel.

Chain still on the door, Casey opened it as far as it would go. "Can I see it?" she asked through the open door. The woman passed her badge through and Casey turned it over. Sure enough, two stripes of black tape clung desperately to the badge, just as Olivia had said. Still holding on to the badge, she closed the door and unchained the lock. She opened the door again and let the two women in, handing back the badge as the older woman walked by.

"Glad you made it," the young blonde said, "we've been having trouble with planes the past couple of days. Especially those flying out of New York."

Casey's head shot up and she blinked, a little startled. "Then you obviously know who I am. I was told nothing of you other than you'd come by," she said, recovering from the shiver of a worm that had crawled through her body a moment ago.

"Mia Wilson," the brunette identified herself, "and my big mouth partner Sarah Rhyns." Mia reached into her pocket and drew out a card. "The top number reaches our precinct. The middle is my cell, and the bottom is Sarah's. I want to start out by saying call us any time if you feel uneasy."

Casey took the card with a smile. A good ice breaker, and she felt more at ease with two strangers, even if they were cops and therefore normally safer. "Thanks, officer," she said.

"Mia," the woman replied. Sarah made a gesture to mean that the same went for her. Casey nodded.

The blonde perked a little. "How ya feelin', Miss Novak?" she asked, "so far, so good."

"If I'm going to call you Sarah and Mia, you must call me Casey," she insisted, "and yes, so far so good. I haven't felt so much at ease in nearly a half-year. It's certainly nice." She sat down on the bed and gestured for the officers to do the same- either on the bed or in the chair that lay in the corner of the room.

Mia sat beside Casey and Sarah moved the chair over. "That's good," Sarah said as she flopped down. Neither looked as if they would be staying long, but Casey knew she would miss them once they were gone. She didn't mind being solitary, but knowing that no one down here knew who she was beyond the desk clerk knowing she was a New Yorker made her feel sad. At least in New York she could call up a friend or go over cases with her detectives. If things got too bad, she always had someone to keep her company.

"Unfortunately, Casey, this first meeting's going to be short. Sarah and I have a few errands to run. We'll be back in a couple of days unless you call." Mia rose once more and pulled a small box from her pocket. "Detective Stabler asked me to pick this up for you. I have no idea what it is, but he seemed to think you'd know." The woman shrugged a little as Sarah followed her mentor's suit.

"See ya on Tuesday," Sarah said, "and it was great meeting ya. Call if ya need anything." Mia nodded her afirmations but shook her head with a little laugh as she looked pointedly at Sarah's back.

The two walked out and Casey closed the door with a barely audible 'good-bye.' The feeling of lonesomeness flooded her once more as she lay back on her bed. A sigh escaped her lips and she slid off the bed once more. She was getting ansy, the need to move was over coming the need to not be noticed. She looked at the fridge that was in the room. A mini fridge, empty. She figured it was meant for left overs and what not. But, there was also a microwave, so she figured with a few directions, she wouldn't need to go to the hotel restaurant at all.

That decided, she pulled a clean shirt from her suitcase and changed. She let out her hair and ran a brush through it, pulling it back once she was through. A little messy, she figured as she looked in the mirror, but no one would care, least of all her. Normally, she was a neat freak, but right now, her purpose was to get out of herself and then to find it again. At least a little.

Picking up the bag she had carried on the plane with cash, credit for emergencies, ID, cell phone, and now key card, she walked down to the front desk.

The clerk smiled at her again. "New York," he said with a grin, "what can I do for you?"

She smiled back even though she didn't find it very funny. "Can you tell me how to get to a grocery store from here?" she asked as she leaned against the counter a little, her palms pressing against the point of the counter's edge.

"Sure," he said as he pulled out a map. Using a pencil, he marked a trail for her. "You'll want to take a left out of our parking lots and drive until you reach Bell Road..." He continued to explain as she watched him draw up the map, committing everything he said to memory.

Casey took the map, folding it neatly but keeping it in the palm of her hand. "Thanks," she said with a smile and turned on her heel, walking out of the hotel.

/\

The grocery chop had proven helpful. Casey had picked up a few frozen dinners. Not many, they fit into two bags. She didn't hope to stay down for so long. She was about to unlock her car door when the hairs on the back of her neck rose and stood on end. Her head twisted as she looked about her, her gaze catching a blonde watching her with a befuddled look.

The woman didn't look too familiar, but something struck Casey as familiar, she had seen her before, maybe only once. She wondered if she was following her, but after watching her for a moment, she didn't think so. The woman was her kind of person, someone familiar not only be appearance but also in stance. A moment later, however, and she couldn't be certain. The woman had looked away and slid into her car.

Confused and a little frustrated that she was already seeing familiar faces, faces from New York, Casey started her car and pulled back, not paying attention. Her eyes went wide as she heard the small crash. Nothing big, a small dent at the worst, but still she pulled forward and hopped out. The blonde woman was standing outside of her car, a sheepish grin on her face.

Casey walked over to her, slowly and leaned against her rental as she looked it over. A small scratch. "I thought..." Casey whispered but the woman shook her head.

"Are you alright?" she asked as though Casey hadn't said a word.

"Yes," Casey answered realizing she should probably not say somethings, "You?"

"Naturally," she said with a slightly cheeky grin Casey knew would never come up in a professional manner, "one briefcase hauling snake to another, come have tea and explain what a New Yorker is doing out of her element." She held out her hand. "I'm Vicky Saunders."

"Casey Novak," Casey said as shook Vicky's hand.


	14. Running From a Fight

_All:_ _Awe! I feel so loved. Don't forget. I like reviews. XD Thanks ya'll for reading it. Love, Lady_

**Chapter Thirteen: Running From a Fight**

Casey knocked on the white door to the home she'd been given directions to only two days prior to this. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she looked about, the fear that she was being watched making her uneasy to be here. And what if C... Vicky wasn't here? What if she'd messed up again? She was already half an hour late thanks to her magnificent navigational skills. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blind drop and she realized someone had been watching her out of the blinds. Vicky.

The door opened a moment later and the familiar face of someone she had met only briefly. "Hey Case," the woman said as the left just enough room for Casey to slid through the door before closing it again, something Casey didn't miss because her behaviour had been very similar as of late. She heard the familiar sound of a lock clicking in place and smiled a little, glad she wasn't the only one with jitters.

"Hi," Casey answered uncertain of what to call the woman less than two years older than her.

Vicky filled in the silence, but not the blank. "Why don't you grab a seat," she said as she guided Casey to the living room. The house was amazing, not palacial, but clean and oddly professional. It was certainly different from what Casey was used to. It was regal, perfect in a homely way. Some of the 'snake' persona Vicky had showed through, but it blended into something else. "Can I get you a drink? I promised tea, but to be honest, I prefer coffee."

She couldn't help it. The prosecutor laughed. "I don't drink tea either. Curiousity has me held entrapt," she answered, "and, water, please?"

The blonde nodded and disappeared in the direction Casey presumed would be the kitchen. A moment later, she returned carrying two glasses of water. She handed one to Casey and sat down in a chair nearby. "Well, curiousity has me, too," she continued the opening conversation, "what is it you do exactly?"

Her brow furrowed. Why would...? But, Casey understood. The woman was living an uncharted life. She had no past that she could talk about, and her future might change on a second's notice. Hell, because of Casey, she might have to disappear again. She felt bad about that. "I'm an Assistant District Attorney in New York," she answered, "you?"

It really looked normal for them to be having this kind of conversation in such an impersonal manner, Casey mused with a slight laugh in her eye. She doubted Vicky was being watched, but some people never gave up. At that thought, she froze, feeling miserable.

"I'm a yoga instructor at the health club around here. You should come if you're staying for a while," Vicky offered, "what are you doing in Scottsdale? You're a little out of your element."

She wasn't the only one.

Casey shrugged. "I needed a vacation." Her eyes would not meet the other's. In fact, she concentrated on the floor with an intensity that would have made her suspicious if she saw it in someone else, but she had no idea she was doing it herself.

"Uh-huh," Vicky replied, "You know, there was a time I could pick out a lier pretty quick. There's something you're avoiding."

Casey sighed and fought back the tears welling in her eyes. Vicky was almost a complete stranger. Why she was about to cry in front of her was a mystery. She hadn't planned on that question. Or rather, she hadn't planned on the other woman being as intuitive as she had heard. "A...eh...Vicky," she muttered, "I'm down here to find my head. I lost it." She laughed a little, trying to fall into her harder self, the kind that dealt with rapists on a daily basis.

"So you're running?" Leave it to Alexandra to be blunt and honest. "What from? And why aren't you prosecuting it?"

Eyes squeezed shut, she murmured, "Because IT raped me and killed a friend of mine, another prosecutor."

The other woman blinked a few times, for once at a loss of words. Opening her eyes, Casey recognized the same look of utter shock Olivia so often wore. She hadn't known the woman much before she left New York, and the one out-of-office encounter hadn't lasted long. "Casey..." she breathed after a moment, "I'm..."

She shook her head and swallowed her tears, her voice finding it's lawyer tones as her eyes opened. "Don't," she interrupted. Vicky gave her a look. Those tones, the sudden appearance of that guarded tone meant one thing for Casey. In a court room or with witnesses and perps, it was normal. Here, it shouldn't be. It was her savior and her defense mechanism. "Olivia and Elliot are working on it."

Vicky didn't ask who. She knew. Casey knew she knew and wasn't about to ask. "They'll find him," Alex reassured her, a hand on her back. It was the first time Casey realized she had risen and moved to sit on the couch beside her.

Casey put her glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch as she rose. Her hands wrung through each of her fingers. Confessing once was hard, the second time, well, she always told victims it got easier the more they talked about it, but she was having more issues. "Actually," she fumbled through her words, "they'll have to find her." The last word came out as barely a whisper.

Alexandra's eyes had been on her from the moment she had stood. "They'll get her," Vicky revised, "you know they will."

"I know." It was all Casey could think to say. She knew they would, she had faith in the two of them. It had taken everyone to get used to Casey and Casey to get used to everyone a rather long time, and she knew they weren't as close as Alex had been with them, but she trusted them and hoped the feeling was mutual. They had won her over with their strength and it seemed she had won them over at least a little. "It doesn't change the fact that you're right."

Alex pursed her lips. "It's different," she said, "you're involved in the case."

"So?" Casey turned around to look at Vicky, a little angry at herself. Her voice was barely a whisper when she continued. "So are you."

"And I'm not prosecuting either," Alex shot back, her voice deadly, the voice she was infamous for, "who's better, Casey?" She looked scary, what a perp must see when she first got a hold into them, just before they realized she was going to drag her nails through them as deep as the law would allow- and then some. She would hate to be on the wrong side of two people. The first, Olivia Benson with a gun. The second, Alexandra Cabot in her element, the court room.

She looked defeated as she sighed. This was like court against Alex. "But, you can't. You came back. On MY mistake to top. You're not afraid of facing the man who put you here." Casey froze and collapsed back onto the couch. It took several minutes before Casey found her tongue again. "You wouldn't run if you didn't have to."

Alex didn't answer, but Casey knew what she would have said anyway.

"You aren't half bad," Alex joked a little, "I had to swallow my tongue. Even here, I've never done that. And you come waltzing in." She smiled and held out a hand, gesturing for Casey to lean into her, something the lawyer did, though stiffly. She was still learning to be warm where Alex was getting a little soft, but Casey could still see the former prosecutor's nails. "Casey, I've seen you in court before, albeit only once, but it was amazing."

Her brow furrowed as she automatically tried to read into what Alexandra was trying to do. There was something in her voice that told her she was being taken somewhere, leading without really being led. "And, you were what won the case for me," Casey countered. They could lock like this for ever. One would present one idea, the other could counter it with the opposite. "This is useless. I don't want to go back. You do. That's the biggest difference."

Alex studied her. "Really?" she asked rhetorically, "because I get the feeling you're dying to go back. Do you have anyone to fill this case for you? Or, would you even want them to fill it?"

To both questions, Casey shook her head 'no'. "Leslie was going to, but she's," Casey swallowed, "dead." It was the first time she had really thought about what everything meant that Olivia had told her; the detective had filled her in against regulation, but Olivia wasn't exactly known for following regulations exactly. "I want to try it, but I... I'm scared. She knows more about me than I do. I don't understand how."

A soft laugh filled the air. "Oh, Casey, this sounds so familiar. I know you're scared, believe me. But, the only way you win is when you face your demons. Don't let them win, and the only way they win is when you back down, when you show them they can get away with what they want. No matter how afraid you are, never let them know."

Casey pulled away and looked up at Alex, the seriousness in her face as well as the tenderness. All she could do to respond was nod, and nod she did. She didn't say anything else about the case, Olivia shouldn't have told her what she did, and she didn't want to burdened an already burdened woman with something else.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, "about me?"

"I have to leave," Alex responded, "I fought like Hell to stay this long. They love me, though."

Casey laughed. "I knew you were stubborn, but to have an entire system waiting for you to be ready, that's impressive, your Highness."

"Ah, if only," Alex mused with a wink.

"Go home, prosecutor. Find yourself as soon as you can. Never give them more than you can afford, and promise me you won't let anyone plead her out-mincluding you. I don't care what anyone says about it. Don't even letBranch get to you. Not that I think he will." Alex hugged Casey quickly before pulling away and smiling at her. "I'm gone in a few hours. It was good seeing you, but don't tell." Her eyes said thank you, and Casey knew she'd honour the wish even though Olivia would die just to know Alex was alright.

Casey nodded as she stood. "I'm glad to have seen you, too, Vicky," she said, "I think I've found my head."

She slept. She didn't know quite how long she had slept, but it had been a long time. She wasn't sure when she'd sleep again after this. Home would be an interesting place to go. It was where she had left her nightmares, and now she was going to return to those and to a load of work that would keep her up for a while. The dreams hadn't existed for three days now, and that in itself had been the best blessing in the world.

Once Casey awoke, she set to packing her bag. Not much to pack, she had only pulled out a few shirts and two pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans. The room was relatively clean, not much to really do, not much that she even touched. She left the food in the fridge, there were four frozen meals left. She zipped up her bags and disappeared.

"Olivia," Elliot's voice met my ears with a hint of humour in it that I hadn't heard in days.

I had been pouring over everything we knew about Novak's case. It was driving me up a wall and no matter how many times I rearranged everything, there was nothing deeper than Amanda's pure hatred for the so-called good guys. And, she was still out there. Casey was still in danger, and- as Elliot took the time to remind me five times each day- it put me and every other female cop in danger. As well as the lawyers.

I hated being interrupted. In fact, Cragen had left his office tomy needs telling everyone to stay out of it unless it was an emergency. I couldn't thank him enough, but I still wasn't making much progress. We had a warrent out for Amanda's arrest, but I'm not beyond hiring someone to bring her head to me on a platter. Just as long as she's where she belongs, Hell. Be it Riker's or otherwise. No insanity defense, she knew exactly what she was doing- including cleaning up. No jury would let her by on that. Of course, we had to get her first.

I wanted to cry, but I looked up instead. "Yeah, El?" I said, but before he could answer, I saw movement behind him and my gaze focused on the SVU prosecutor. I jumped from my seat and hugged her as she walked into the office. "Casey!" Hugging anyone I worked with was really against my ideals, but I couldn't help myself.

"I missed you, too," she said and I let go of my hug. I think she had trouble breathing for a second.

I fell away from her and looked her over. She looked so much better and I assumed it meant that she had gotten more sleep. I nodded satisfactorily as I finished my once over of her. Professional as always, Casey amazed me. Tough as nails and never one to give up. Even now, she had only taken three days break and she was back. She had gone out so defeated, though, and come back with this aura of strength. Just being in the same room as her made me feel like I could suddenly solve this case for her. That I could find Amanda. And, looking at Elliot's confused face, I knew he felt the same. I wondered what had caused the change, but I didn't ask.

"I'm glad you're back, Novak. And, that puts me and El back on protective duty." I smiled at her and was glad when she returned it. She was a totally different person.

She looked troubled for a second, though, and I frowned a little. "That's okay?" she asked. She seemed worried that we wouldn't protect her. The fear was still there, and I let out a low breath.I wasrelieved she hadn't become some superhuman on her break.

In truth though, I was scared. It had been a while since I was a detail, though I was more than happy to be Casey's. Ever since Alex had been shot, I hadn't trusted myself to protect anyone but me. The last thing I wanted to do was fail Casey. The last thing I would do was fail Casey.

"Yea," I said as I realized I hadn't said anything for several moments. Elliot's brow raised and I knew he'd read right through me. As long Casey hadn't, I wasn't bothered immediately. I would deal with that fear once Casey had left and before I was walking- or biking since she so rarely drove her car- with her again. And, I would. I always did. Well, usually.

"How's it coming?" she looked more vulnerable when she asked that question. "No details, I just want to know if you've come any closer."

I regretted shaking my head, but I wouldn't lie to her. This was tough, and she and I weren't the only ones frusrated over the fact. Everyone at the bullpen had decided, however, that it went beyond them. I could only be thankful the Feds weren't sniffing. Maybe our resources weren't as good, but I had confidence we could get them. Besides, I would fight tooth and nail... and gun... to keep this case.

"I'm sorry, Case," I answered her verbally, "but we haven't made much progress."I paused."Ethan Linders is still prosecutingthe cases we're pulling in. Rapists just don't stop." I couldn't stop myself from muttering, "Bastards."

Her brow raised and I recognized the question in her eye. "He doesn't care as much as you do," I answered, "He still hasn't been here. Doesn't even want to dig himself in like you did." I shook my head. "Branch called us yesterday. We had a meeting with him. I think he's planning on keeping you off the SVU cases for a while from what I gathered. Casey, if that's the case, will you promise to do it?"

"I have a job to do, and I'm not backing down from it just because I was raped." I blinked. I wasn't expecting the solidity ofheranswer. I knew she was strong, but she was an entirely knew person. In fact, she was sounding a little like her predecessor. "I can handle their cases, and I would try my own if I legally could."

She looked determined, absolutely fixed, and I didn't want to argue. "You're back, Novak," I said, "and I'll fight with you. I'm sure we all will."

Casey smiled and I sighed, relief flooding through me. "Thanks, Liv," she said with a smile. She paused and sucked in her lips. "I had better talk to Branch before he thinks I've vanished for good."

She'd been gone three days. Everyone missed her, but I don't think Arthur would have forgotten that she could be stubborn and wouldn't back off. I watched her leave the office before looking up at Elliot. "Are cops like lawyers?"

He laughed knowing me too well. "Yes, 'Livia, they are." He laughed again before turning to leave me in peace. I loved that man. He let me work when I had the energy and desire to do so. He brought in a distraction when my energy was running low. Back at work now, I felt as though I could put the pieces together. Just seeing Casey's turn around, the hope in her eyes that hadn't been there in a long time, woke me from my frustrated daze. This was personal, and it pissed me off greatly.


	15. If Only

Chapter 14: If Only...

She ran her hand briefly through her hair and dropped her head on the desk with a thud. These leads the detectives had pulled from a case so long ago, yet none of them forgot it, had lead to nothing as far as her resources went. Right now, she had a headache, and she knew when she cleaned her face later, she would have little black rings about them from not sleeping. Casey Novak had been home for three days, and she hadn't slept at all. Not that she was surprised. She hadn't thought she would be sleeping, but it was still a miserableseventy-two hours. The nightmares didn't plague her so bad, but a desperate feeling of despair had settled into the hole the nightmares had left. It had been a long time, and there were no leads that actually got them anywhere. Olivia and Elliot knew who this woman was, and yet they were unable to find her. Casey herself understood many things of this case she didn't want to. Many things she would have rather blocked from her mind completely than have them be anywhere near her soul.

"Casey," a voice rang through the cloud forming in her mind, "Casey, are you alright?"

She recognized the voice to be Olivia's. For a moment, she was angry. As far as she knew, no one had knocked on the door. But, the feeling soon dissapated as she realized she probably would not have noticed one way or another. "Yes," she answered, "I'm fine. This case is just killing me."

"What are you working on?" Olivia asked, catching Casey off guard. The detectives hadn't brought in a case over the two days she had been here, and the ones currently at trial were at trial. She wasn't about to make things confusing and interfere. It was not a safe move. New cases would be brought to her. The ones in motion, Ethan, or whatever his name was, could finish them.

"An old case," Casey answered vaguely, "I thought, perhaps to read over it would ease my mind a little."

Olivia seemed to buy it for now so Novak silenced herself and looked pointedly at the detective. "What did you need?" she asked. Not that she minded the company, but usually, the detectives only showed up when they needed something. Olivia would sometimes stop by, but she had only just seen her a few hours ago, when Olivia and Elliot had escorted her to the building. Hell, they had made sure she got to her office alright.

The older woman shook her head. "I don't need anything. I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she said as she sat down in the chair across from Casey's desk, "you seemed more mellow than usual this morning."

Casey looked at Olivia trying to discover her motives for saying so several hours after the fact. "I haven't been sleeping much," she stuck with a safe answer, one Olivia couldn't call her on, "I suppose I was only tired." She forced a smile as if to say she was feeling fine now. She wasn't. She was feeling far from it, actually. Reading over this case was a shock to her mind. She wasn't so out of it that she didn't know things like this happened, but to actually know someone it happened to. Well, it was a different setting, to say the least.

"Alright, then," Olivia said with a motherly smile that Casey had grown accustomed to seeing on her every once in a while. She pushed herself out of the seat and headed to the door. Before she could get out, Casey looked up, calling her back in. The prosecutor had no idea why shehad, but it had been instinct to not have her leave.

"Yea?" Olivia asked turning at the door, the twinkle in her eyes telling Casey that Olivia had known she would do that.

Casey shook her head. "I don't know," she answered, "forget it." She really didn't know. That was the problem. She had called Olivia back without a purpose. It wasn't like her, at least n ot around her detectives, and certainly not at work. Olivia seemed to be either completely ignorant or understand enough to only nod and pull the door shut behind her. Either way, Casey sighed in relief once she was alone again.

Setting the papers back into their folders, Casey put the manila folder back into a box with several folders in it, separated by brightly coloured sheets she had fitted in there that morning. Elbows on her desk, the woman put her face in her hands and shook her head. This was all crazy. Everything this year seemed so surreal. Between what happened to meeting Alex in Scottsdale, it was like a long dream and so was silently begging to wake up. What happened to the life she was leading? The strong prosecutor who had even attempted to charge the Army with rape to get something accomplished. The woman who wouldn't let set backs hinder her and avoided getting emotional with victims and played hardball with criminals. That side of her was breaking down faster than she could repair it. It didn't even seem as though some new strength was replacing it. She just felt drained, weak, and faithless.

A knock on the door caused her to look up. "Yes?" she quired through the wood and glass.

"A letter just showed up for you, Miss Novak," the intern said from the outside of the door.

Casey's brow furrowed as she rose. "What does it say?" she asked, not letting the fear she felt edge her voice.

"Just your name," the young man said and she could just see him shrugging so awefully in her mind's eyelike he always did.

The letter hadn't come by the mail, someone had hand delivered it. The door to her office flew open and she found herself looking into the shocked intern's face. "Sorry," she said for he really looked like he was going to have a heart attack,

"The letter," she said as she took it from him, careful to touch only one corner of the white paper, "who delivered it?" The last time she had heard that question, Elliot had been asking the man at the front of her apartment complex.

He smiled, the lustful smile of a young man who desperately needs a girlfriend. "Some chick. Said her name was Mandy. Real hot. She turned me down though."

"Marc," Casey said, keeping her voice under control despite the fact that she wanted to loose it, "you've got to get someone your own age. Can you call Detective Benson for me, please? Tell her to bring a bag." He looked shocked, then smirked slightly. Casey sighed. He always seemed to have a crush on someone too old for him. Olivia had been his object of attention for a week now. It amused both women greatly, though both continuously told him to get a girlfriend that wasn't twenty-some years older than he was.

He disappeared on his errand, returning a few minutes later, trailling behind Olivia, his eyes firmly planted on her rear end. Casey normally might have laughed, but she was in no mood to do so right now.

"What?" Olivia asked, confused.

Casey held up to envelope she had transferred to her letter opener so she didn't smear or smudge any more prints than she had by taking it from Marc. "I think it's another one," she explained, "It's the same hand-writting."

Olivia took the letter opener from Casey and balanced it carefully. Casey doubted the detectives would be able to get prints, but it was worth the try. Besides, it seemed that this time, it had actually been Amanda who had delivered it, not some poor sap she met in the street- who inevitably turned up dead in the next day or two- or one of the men she was 'dating'. And, she was apparently dating a lot of men, and a few women. How they had never met was beyond Casey, but she only knew what Olivia and Elliot told her. Needless to say, that wasn't much.

After an intial examintion, Olivia dropped the envelope into an evidence bag. "I'll get it checked for you," she said as she handed Casey back the opener, "do you want to know what it says? Or should I just put it with the others?"

Casey smiled a little at the question. She had read the first one without knowing who it was from and it had frightened her to death. This one was the third she had received, one each day, and she was done knowing what they said even though Stabler had assured her the second one wasn't so graphic. "I think I'd rather be ignorant," she answered, "at least for now." Maybe in a little while she would be able to face the letters, but today, even tomorrow, she knew she couldn't.

"I'll call Elliot, if you like. He can run this over to the lab and I'll stay here." The young woman looked quizzically at the detective before looking down at her own hands. She was shaking, and it was a noticeable shaking. No wonder the detective looked so concerned. Elliot had been at the pen all day, working. Casey had told Olivia to get herself some lunch at the nearby deli, and although it had taken a good hour of persuassion, Olivia had finally agreed on the condition that Casey not leave her desk and that the intern not let anyone in the office. Now, Casey was wondering if she hadn't made Olivia go eat, would Amanda have been caught?

Olivia seemed to be thinking the same thing for the next thing out of her mouth was, "She must have been watching the building. I don't want you alone with her around." The detective's hand took Casey's and held it steady. "And, I would wager you'd rather not be?"

"D...don't go," Casey stammered, feeling dizzy. She pulled free from Olivia's grasp and practically fell into the window of her office, letting the blind drop with a crash, blocking out the sun completely. Falling into the chair behind her desk, Casey put her head on the table. The first wasn't the only 'if only' running through her mind. They had been there all along, but each day, she was able to supress them less and less, and this seemed to be the final weight that broke her barrier and let the 'if onlys' come through.

So far, ten people had died, victims, innocents, and ignorants alike. And, Casey was beginning to feel completely responsible. She was the only one getting the notes. Don Cragen and Doc Huang had both told her the same thing. Amanda was only trying to place the blame on someone else, and why not her little sister's best friend? Casey knew they were right, but it didn't stop her from feeling that way. She had been the one to fall into the trap of loving Steven. She had been the one to let him use her to find out about many other people in the DA's office as well as in the precincts. She had been the one who let him abuse her even after she knew that he was. She had been the one to let Leslie out of the car. She had been the one. It was her all along. It was because of her that, not only were ten people dead, but more would die.

She felt Olivia's dark eyes on her and shook her head into the polished wood. "Just call Stabler," she said. Casey did not want to say what was going through her mind right now; she knew she'd be admonished for it. The office door closed and she heard the faint sound of Olivia's voice on the otherside as she made the call to Elliot. For the first time, Casey let herself cry in a place others could see her. She didn't care anymore. The tears fell silently into little pools.


	16. Gone

**Chapter Fifteen: Gone**

I hung up my phone and stood outside of Casey's office until Elliot picked up the evidence bag. I was probably as skeptical as Casey when it came to us getting anything off of it. No prints save hers and that intern who always stares at my chest when I walk up and my ass when I walk away. I don't even know his name. It never occured to me to ask. Actually, I figured it was safer if I didn't. Asking him his name might make him think he's actually got a chance with me. I could be his mother, almost. I'm just glad I'm not.

"Liv," Elliot's voice drew me from my musings and I looked up.

"I don't want to leave her, El," I said as I handed him the bag, "this morning, did you see?"

He nodded. We had walked with her from her house to her office. Elliot and I wanted to drive her, but Casey's almost as stubborn as Alex was, and getting more stubborn by the day. She actually told us off for letting some creep like Amanda win by making her change her lifestyle. I was the first to relent, but I kept my hand near my gun the entire time. Most of the walk was nice, she was quiet, but responsive which was more than she was before she went to Scottsdale. She won't say, but I know something happened down there. It was more than just feeling relaxed, she met someone or did something and it got her back a bit. Admittedly, she was a little jumpy. A bus drove past and when it stopped just a little a head of the group, she froze up. Literally froze up. She just stopped walking, and I swear she wasn't breathing. Her recovery, though, was quick. I had barely looked over at her, and then she started up again. I hadn't been sure if Ellliot had noticed so I didn't say anything to her about it in front of him, and I had wanted to ask her all day what had made her momentarily halt. I hadn't though. It was far wiser to keep my mouth shut about it.

"I'll drop this off at the lab, then," he said with a smile as he tucked the bag into his jacket.

I rested my hand on the handle. "Thanks, El," I said as I pushed the door open and slid back into Casey's office, making sure to shut the door behind me.

Her forehead was resting on her arms and she looked like she was sleeping. But, she was so still that, had I not known better, I would have checked her pulse. "Casey," I whispered, not wanting to wake her if she had managed to fall asleep.

When she responded, I was shocked to hear her voice so broken. "Is it gone?" she asked me, not looking up.

"Yea, Case, it's gone."

She looked up at me and smiled weakly. Her eyes were red and puffy, her arms wet with tears. "Oh, Casey," I pulled a chair up next to hers and wiped her eyes with my thumb.

Pulling away, Casey wiped her own face, and seeing her like that, I felt myself frown. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I just..." She stood up and picked up a box from beside her desk. Slamming it over the papers she already had out, she began rooting through it, much to my confusion. "I did it," she muttered over and over.

Finally, I stood up and grabbed her wrists. She was going to tear that box apart looking for whatever it was she did. "Casey," I was shocked at the motherly sound of my own voice, "Casey, calm down. It's okay."

She was shaking her head. I thought for a second she had snapped, that this whole thing had pushed her over the edge. But, it hadn't. She was, after all, Casey Novak. The second lawyer I'd ever met that I liked. "No. Olivia, let go, I have to find it." She pulled at my hands as if to tug free, but I wasn't holding her very hard. She didn't want free. She wanted someone to hold her. I knew the look in her eyes. It had been the look in my eyes growing up.

"Tell me what you're looking for and I'll find it for you," I begged her, "but, please. Sit down and breathe."

She pulled free, dead set and determined to find it herself. "No," she said as she weent back to pulling folders from the box. She was looking for a case log. But, why? And to what end? After flipping through a few, she looked up at me, that triumphant look in her eyes she gets when she knows she has a jury sold on the verdict she wants to get.

"What?" I asked as I reached for the file. She let me take it.

"That's what she's after," she said as I looked through it. I remembered this case. The man had been convicted for raping children. It had been a tough trial, but Casey had put him away until he was an old man. I figured he was the one being raped now. Baby rapists always get their own in prison. I've never met a murderer who liked a child rapist. I don't think I ever will.

"Carnin's case file?" I was obviously confused.

She took the file from me and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Look who posted bail." The edge of her fingernail was resting on a name. Julia McIntyre. Why did that name sound so damn familiar? I knew it did, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. I heard Leslie's voice in my head, saying the name. What was... 'Julia McIntyre, her birth name"...

"Amanda," I breathed, "she posted bail for him two years ago. I remember. Julia was his fiance. His conviction broke their wedding arrangements." I paused. "She was pregnant, wasn't she?"

Casey nodded. "Her other kids had been taken by Child Services," she said, "She lost the baby after that. She promised me she'd get even."

"It's a revenge vendetta," I muttered more to myself since Casey had already figured it out, "that's good and bad."

She sat down in her chair. I was telling her information that she already knew. It meant two things, essentially. One, she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied Casey had paid her dues. Two, she wasn't going to leave New York. "I'm going to make a copy. Fin and Munch will talk to him, see what he knows about his ex-fiance." I was excited now. We might just bring her in. After a year of her Hell, we might just be able to get to her. And she would go down for a long time. So far, we'd linked her to seven rapes and three murders. The girl was a fucking psycho, and as much as I wished it wasn't Casey she was after, I was glad to know it was someone who would be able to recover from it. Casey lived up to her name, she was damn brave.

"Alright," she said. She seemed calmer now, now that she had found that file. I suspected she had been hiding it from herself despite how much it would help with the case. I'd seen more than enough people do that. They wouldn't tell the police certain things, not because they didn't think it was important, but they didn't want to face the facts themselves. I had a feeling this was one of those times.

"I'll be back in couple of minutes," I said. I still didn't want to leave her alone, but she wasn't really alone in this office. I figured the intern wouldn't let her out of his sight. Especially if I asked him.

Casey nodded and I slid out of the door with the folder in my hand.

The copy machine was jammed and I had to wait for someone to come and fix it. By the time I was done, I was frustrated. It had taken five minutes for Lisa to fix the infernal machine for me. Copies in one hand, originals beneath, I made my way back to her office. "Did she go anywhere?" I asked the boy. I felt bad checking up on her like this, but I didn't want her to go on one of her walks. She had yesterday without calling El or I to go with her.

"Nope," he said as he looked up at me, a smile on his face.

"Can you do me another favour?" I asked, a smile on my own face.

He nodded eagarly. "Get yourself a girlfriend so you can stop looking at my breasts," I said making him blush a deep crimson. I don't think he thought I noticed, though it was hard not to do so.

I pushed open the office door, but Casey wasn't there. "I thought you said she didn't go anywhere," I said to the intern.

"I swear," he stood up and waled over to the office door, "she didn't leave. At least not through the door."

He began to walk into the office and my hand shot out, catching him. "Don't," I warned, "go sit back down." I was already pulling my gun from its holster. The only window in her office had been left wide, the smell of a New York breeze filtering into the office. I made my way to the window without a sound, my back against the wall. I whirled and pointed the barrell down as my eyes searched for anyone. The only thing I noticed was a letter taped to a window washer's scaffold. "Fuck," I muttered and reclipped my Glock.

Pulling out my cell, I dialed Elliot's number. "Forget the lab," I said as soon as he picked up, "Casey's gone."

My next call was to the Captain. "Can we get CSU over here a-s-a-p?" I asked into the phone, my panic rising. I hadn't thought about checking the roof for anyone, and I was about to loose it. If I had, Casey would never have gone. I pulled on a pair of gloves and leaned out the window, pulling the letter from the metal frame. Normally, I would have waited to get it processed, but I didn't know how long Casey had. I hated thinking of it that way, but that's the way it was now.

Doing my best to detatch myself, I opened the letter. The paper tumbled out with a string of words. The handwriting was unfamiliar to me as I read. Finished with the letter, I swallowed. I didn't doubt she would know the second I asked for outside help. I pulled out my cell phone and called Don back. "Call off CSU," I said, "she'll be dead if they come."

"What do you mean?" he asked, "Olivia calm down."

"I can't Cap. This is my game. I'll see you when I find her." I would find her, and she would be alive. "Tell Elliot to stay at the pen. Cap'n, I'm gonna be gone for a few days."

He understood. "Okay, Liv," he said, "okay."

I hung up the phone. I'd delt with kidnappers my entire life, but never ones that had the whole city bugged. For once, I'd have to play by her rules instead of my own.

"Alright," I said to the empty room, "I'll play."

My cell phone rang and I answered it.

_Dear Detective Benson-_

_I trust this letter finds you alive. Don't fret for Miss Novak can be found in the same state. And, she will remain that way if you can pull yourself together long enough to find her. It's only a game, but the stakes are high. Are you up for it?_

_The rules of the game are simple. We'll keep playing until you catch me, or you give up. I'll know you've given up when you call upon an outsider to help you. It's just me and you in this game of hearts. Let's see whose breaks first. Hers or yours._

_Faithfully Yours-  
Amanda._


	17. All of It?

_Hey kids. Sorry this has taken me so long to update. Here's the final little twist in the story, and hopefully it will answer any questions regarding Casey's abuse by her boyfriend after the rape. Sorry it's so short, as well. The next one will be longer, I promise! Always- Lady._

**Chapter Sixteen: All of It?**

She flittered between consciousness and not, few of her senses returning each time. Bright, neon lights interrupting the peaceful darkness and the feeling of wind caressing her body with ice were all she knew for several days. Though she could not say with certainty how much time had actually passed between the darknesses, she made it a point to try and count the number of times she woke up. Yet, she forgot how many times she had woken up or forgot to count when she did. Always, it was one. One, only one. But she knew in her soul that so much more time had passed than just one of anything. Except maybe months and years. Eventually, however, the stream of lights stopped and the place where she existed both consciously and subconsciously became warm and soft. Her body felt slick with sweat as the nightmares persisted even into her rare waking moments, drawing undefined faces before her that made her whimper or cry out in shock and some pain.

Casey's eyes fluttered open, and she tried to sit up. Before she managed anything, however, the sharpness in her head forced her eyes shut again in a vain attempt to quell the feeling. "Oh, God," she moaned as her instincts tried to rush her hands to cover and protect the site of such agony. She whined a little when she discovered they couldn't move from her lower back. They were pinned beneath her by more than just her own weight. She let out another squeak as she pulled at her binds to get herself loose. They were rope, but they were tight. There was no way she was getting out of them.

"Casey," a female voice accosted her ears making her cringe and squirm in fright, "here." The voice didn't seem to care about her obvious

The woman felt a hand at her mouth. She was fairly certain it was a hand, though she still had her eyes squeezed shut. Fingers pressed against her lips and she opened her mouth only to snap down, catching the flesh between her teeth. A cry of pain next met her ears as the fingers pulled away, a noise so harsh sounding that Casey's body flinched away and pressed itself further into whatever she was laying on. Something cold splashed across her chest and she let out a startled gasp as her eyes snapped open.

"You little bitch!" Amanda screamed at her, smacking her face and throwing a pill at Casey. The young lawyer instantly regretted biting the other woman. The pill on the blanket beside her was one she recognized from her own medicine cabinet, a very strong pain killer. Her face burned from the flesh on flesh contact and her head throbbed.

She watched dimly as Amanda slid from the blanket and stood up. It was the first time Casey realized she had been placed on a bed in what looked like a small apartment room. The kitchen area was to her left, and when she turned her head to her right, she saw two doors. One she assumed was the bathroom since it was open, though she couldn't see inside of it. The other, she hoped was the way out. But, who knew what dangers lay beyond the door and whether or not they would be better than the ones inside the apartment. Assuming she could even get free. "Where am I?" she asked in a drunken matter.

"You're still in New York City," her captor informed her in a very off handed manner, "it wouldn't be fair if i took you out of state. Then, Olivia would never find you." She smiled sinisterly causing Casey to swallow despite her own bravery.

"Olivia?" Casey repeated, "What did you do to her?" The worry was obvious in her tones, but Casey didn't think she could hide it. The detective was like an older sister to the lawyer.

Amanda laughed. "I didn't do anything to her except ask her if she wanted to play a game. She accepted, that's why you're here. See, you're the prize. If she fails, you die. If she doesn't, she gets you back."

"And you? Either way you disappear over the horizon?"

Amanda shook her head. "No," she answered, "I die. But my sealed fate won't come into play until Detective Benson either succeeds her charge or fails it."

Casey was stunned. She had little idea of what was going on. Olivia couldn't have entered into that game before Casey was kidnapped, so she hardly thought it to be voluntary on the detective's part. She still didn't know exactly where she was, and she highly doubted that she would be told. Why Amanda would die either way was also very much beyond her. Casey's head hurt, and as intelligent as she was, there was no way she could follow this with so much pain beating at the back of her skull. Her gaze turned breifly, but longingly, to the pill.

It was a move that Amanda did not miss. For a moment, Casey couldn't decide whether to be relieved or else afraid when Amanda picked up the pill between two of her fingers and held it a few inches from Casey's mouth. "We're on the tenth floor, Casey," she warned with a darkness in her voice that Casey hadn't before thought possible, "if you bite me again." She didn't finish the threat. Casey understood perfectly.

Obligingly, the red head opened her mouth and allowed the pill to be placed onto her tongue. She could feel Amanda's nails as they scraped at her lip but resisted the urge to pull away or bite down once more, fear of being thrown off the balconey in her stomach. The object now in her mouth felt vile and bitter, but Casey forced it down before Amanda put the cup of water to her lips. It was a struggle to sit up enough to drink the water with much success, the little that flowed into her mouth making her thirst only apparent to her and made her almost cry for more water. In the end, however, a chilled hand went behind her neck and helped to hold her steady while she drank what was offered in a greedy manner. Casey didn't dare ask for more, though, no matter how thirsty she was.

"Why help me?" she asked instead, the need to ask something burning at her lips just as the cool water burned her throat. She didn't understand the other's purpose for being so kind after not only raping her, but kidnapping her. She'd be a little less polite in any other circumstance to someone who had done that, but in her current state, she figured it was more beneficial to be kind.

Gently, Amanda let her head down, retracting her hand from Casey's neck only after Casey felt the pillow against the back of her head. She shrugged slightly and put the little paper cup into the trashcan near the open door. "It benefits me," she answered as she fell gracefully into a chair beside Casey's bed, "if you're tossing and turning in pain, it pisses me off. And if I get pissed off, you're going over the railing. If you go over the railing, that damned boyfriend of yours won't be happy with me."

"Steven?" Casey asked, startled, "what does Steven have to do with this?"

"You really don't get it do you?" It was Amanda's turn to be startled, and she was. She stood up and slid over to the window, staying as close to the walls as was possible without it taking too long to get there. She drew the large curtains shut, taking the sunlight from Casey's eyes. Casey thought there might be an alterior motive to that, but she couldn't help but be glad the bright light was no longer blinding her.

"I wish I were intelligent enough, but Marcus was right in saying I was stupid. I'm really only good for being a whore. But, he let me get even with you at the same time I got you back for him. See, men don't much care for prison, not when they're put in on false charges of child rape," she said in an exhasperated manner, "when he hit New York on parole, he called me up."

"But, Steven?" Casey questioned, still very confused, the pain medication beginning to take effect on her foggy brain, but not completely clearing it just yet.

Amanda turned around and leaned into the wall. "He planned this. All of it," she said monotonously.


	18. God

_I'm sorry for the extended wait. I hope this is better. Again, I love the feedback. . _

**Chapter Seventeen: God**

Suddenly, it clicked and Casey lurched forward a little, her restraints the only thing keeping her from flying off the bed. "Steven," she gasped, her eyes wide and wild. Her breath came out hard and she felt like she had just been kicked in the stomach. The pain that followed was what she was feeling now, feeling without really feeling. The shock and the fear and the hate all settled around her at once and seeped into her cold bones.

"Please," she begged of Amanda, "please tell me it's a lie." She stopped struggling and lay back onto the pillow, warm tears creeping out of her mouth. She had given everything she had to that man. He had had her heart. She hadn't thought it had mattered that she preferred to remain in the relationship without sex despite not being a virgin herself. She had loved him. And, she had thought he loved her, at least, until the rape. Then, she had discovered his real feelings. Inside, she was torn up. Casey knew that she ought to have recognized it, but she had refused to. Her body shook with sobs. Amanda didn't have to answer, she knew: Steven was Marcus.

The woman stood calmly, her back pressed against the wall. Clearly, she knew what was going on in the prosecutor's mind right now and understood that an answer wasn't necessary for she didn't say anything for several long minutes. When Casey's body finally stopped thrashing and the tears slowed, she spoke. "I know you'd like me to, but I can't Casey," she said softly, "I'd like to tell you I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"I… What about the others? In that man's apartment?" she questioned, everything rushing back to her. She needed to focus on something that wasn't directly linked to her. This was the first she could think of.

"Most were his choosing," Amanda murmured with a shrug as she pulled herself from the wall and looked down at the woman, "I needed to gain his trust somehow. I let him have his power so that I could have mine."

Her rapist sat on the bed next to her and began stroking her cheek. Casey wanted nothing more than to spit at her but found she had no strength to do so. Amanda brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "You're so pretty," she mused, "I honestly am sorry for that, taking that confidence from you. If you'd have run from Marcus earlier, you would have been far better suited for it. This wouldn't have happened."

Casey shuddered a little. She was really beginning to believe this was her fault. It was unfortunate, but it was something she was becoming more and more certain of. Biting on her lower lip, she turned her head away from Amanda's hard gaze and stared, instead, at the balcony doors.

//\\

Olivia looked up at the apartment building with a sigh. She'd been on the hunt for nearly a week and found herself getting no closer to where Casey was. Most nights, she either cried herself to sleep or else she stayed up all night looking. Searching the city by night was no more a difficult task than searching by day. However, it was no less difficult either.

The prospect of loosing Casey was too heart wrenching. The detective hadn't seen her squad since the phone call. She wasn't certain if that would be regarded as "getting help" as Amanda had forbidden her from doing. She missed them, too. For the first time, she felt truly isolated. Growing up, she had felt isolated, but it wasn't quite as deep. Olivia had had people to help her then, she could help herself, if she had admitted things and gone to them. But, this time, she had no one to go to. There was no one who could help her but herself and she was fighting an uphill battle.

She checked her nine millimeter Glock and slammed the magazine back into it, loading a bullet for safe keeping. She had fired the gun three times since Amanda had last called six hours ago. Her body was shaking from the experience. He had grabbed her while she had sat in an alley. He had managed to throw her into a wall before she could draw her gun. Without waiting, she shot him dead and left his body there. She knew she'd be in a Hell of a lot of trouble when the corpse was found and the ballistics matched her weapon, but she had no choice. The back of her head throbbed and her hair was matted with blood. The hoodie of the sweatshirt she was wearing had been drawn up so people didn't ask questions as she rode around the subway to get here.

The gun cocked and in her hand, she kept it in one hand as she crept up the stairs to the abandoned building. She'd been told to go to the tenth floor, the third door to her left. There was a note for her inside. She looked about. Not a single camera existed in the building. It truly looked ready to be demolished. She was sure it would be soon, taking apart brick by brick little by little or else in a large explosion. There wasn't that much around it. The parking lot surrounding the building was expansive and she didn't think an explosion would cause that much damage to the other surrounding buildings.

No one met her as she made her way slowly up the stairs. She had been given no time limit on each of her clues, but she wanted badly to accomplish each task and wasted no time doing so. At the room, she found the door unlocked but closed. Carefully, she opened it, her gun leading her in. She checked the bathroom, closet, kitchen, and balcony before tucking her gun away.

The bed was messed up as though someone had just slept in it. In fact, as she looked around, there was hardly any dust. This place had just recently been used. But, the building had been empty for six months. Her heart caught in her throat, Olivia scanned the room for any notes. Something dark red caught her attention on the bed. It was a lock of hair, she noted as she carefully picked it up and spun it between her fingers. Casey's hair. Casey had been here.

Struggling to fight back the tears, she tucked the lock- tied off with some string- into her sweatshirt pocket. She wiped away a few of the tears that had escaped on the back of her hand and wiped her hand on her jeans. "Casey," she moaned, "oh, god, Casey." It took all she had not to throw herself onto the bed and cry.

She searched the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and closet for a promised note and found none. Swallowing the lump in her throat that told her she'd been deceived, she went onto the balcony. A note had been taped to the floor. _How does it feel to see what God sees?_

Blinking, she moved to the railing and clutched the bar until her knuckles were white. Below her, drawn into the asphalt of the parking lot was a scene of the world. People were killing each other. Men were raping women. People were being hung, beheaded, stabbed. Each person was bare naked, and the attention to detail made her want to vomit. Desperately, she tried to turn away from the images on the ground, but something made her stop.

One woman, just as big as the others, just as naked, hardly looked as though she had been drawn onto the blackness. Olivia's eyes nearly broke their restraints as she stared at the tossed hair, the pool of blood dried around it. She tore her hands from the balcony and raced down the stairs. When she reached the body, she bent to touch her skin. It was still warm, the woman having reached death less than an hour before. "Amanda," she muttered as the face came into view, "where's Casey?"

It was no use. The corpse didn't answer back. Olivia's hand went to her chest as the thought entered her mind that she might be too late to save Casey. Amanda promised she wouldn't kill Casey until Olivia gave up. Olivia hadn't given up, but Amanda was dead. That meant a new set of rules. She didn't know what had happened to Casey. She didn't know what would. In a terror of fear and rage, she raced back into the building, her gun drawn. Methodically and ferociously, she tore through every single room the apartment had to offer searching for either Casey, Casey's corpse, or anything that would tell her where she could find either.


	19. Left for Dead

_Wow. I didn't forget about this story, but I didn't think many people liked it. That there were a few of you makes me smile, so I'm giving you an update. I had an ending in mind, but I've gotten a little more sadistic since then… So, bare with me because it might take me a couple of weeks between updates now. If you're still interested, I'd love your input. Thanks, Lady._

**Chapter Eighteen: Left for Dead**

Casey blinked and tried to twist her head into the shadows. The light was bright, but she was getting used to it. The stale taste of vomit lingered on her tongue, but she was glad that she was no longer throwing up. Admittedly, she was no longer being fed and she was starting to see her rib cage beneath her loose clothes. Her body was eating itself and every time her stomach verbally protested her lack of nutrition, a large hand hit her cheek. Her feet were bare and her shirt was torn. Someone had taken her pants from her a while ago and she was left sitting in her underwear and a tee shirt that, had she been her typical weight, would have still been too large.

Reasonably, she guessed Steven still tormented her, but she didn't know. He'd been the last person whose face she had seen when in the room Amanda had locked her in. Steven- _His name is Marcus_- had arrived one evening with a box of chalk and a knife. He had been covered in chalk dust, most of it pale and blending in with his skin. Somehow, she had known it to be a bad omen, but she had no idea what he had done. After he had blindfolded her, she caught the sound of a scream and a sickening crack. Rough hands had gathered her up. By the time the deadbolt in the apartment had slid back, she had passed out.

Since then, there was the blinding light before her. Everything in her peripheral vision was black as was everything surrounding the light. If she moved her head at just the right angle, she could see the silhouetted outline of what appeared to be a male figure hovering nearby. Sometimes it was crouching. Usually, it was walking around. Once in a while, there were several who appeared to be having a conference. During those times, their voices were mere buzzing sounds. She heard her name a lot, most often associated with "whore", "lawyer", "cop", and "sickly-looking". After someone made a comment about her thinness, she was force fed a few bites of rice to satisfy whomever it was that had spoken. At those moments, she both hated and loved the speaker. Her body was getting the much needed food, but after being so teased, it yearned for more in a much more painful manner.

Once, she had caught the words "her cop left her for dead", and she hadn't been able to stop since. She hardly knew her own name anymore. The only times she remembered were when she was addressed, and even then, she wasn't sure if it was her name or a name they had given. But, after it was spoken, she forgot what it was. But, those words had pulled from her mind a silent scream. Olivia was the only name she could think of as it swam around in her mind. For whatever reason, she couldn't figure out why the name was so important to remember, what it meant to her, or to whom it belonged, but she held onto it with all her strength. Even when she wasn't nearly as coherent as she was now and her captor's name slipped her mind, she held on to 'Olivia' with ferocity. Someone named Olivia was going to rescue her. Her soul knew it. Her body had given up hope, but her soul was waiting for this unknown woman and was struggling to keep the body alive until she was found.

Every so often, she would be poked and prodded like cattle. A thick hand would rest at her knee and slowly creep up as if to test her reaction. In almost any other situation, she might be turned on by that act, but whenever these men did it, it was all she could do not to throw up. Her shirt was frequently lifted and her ribs poked until they were sore and more than a little bruised. Hovering men looked into her eyes and forced her jaw open to see inside. _Oh God! _she thought with a sudden burst of panic as another conference began _I'm a product. He's selling me to the highest bidder. No way. No fucking way._

A sound of protest escaped her mouth at the thought and one of the figures rose. A callused hand clasped about her neck and the chair she had been tied to slid back a good foot. "What's that?" a voice snarled. Without warning, her airway closed off and she gagged, struggling to breathe. Unable to sleep from the constant light, dizzy from hunger, and unable to breathe, she felt even the light dim as her mind begged for unconscious relief. She wanted nothing more than to accept that pureness, but the hand let her go too soon.

"Casey," she heard Marcus' voice over the noisy din, "what do you say for irritating the gentleman?" She heard a chair scrape back and another figure joined the one standing to her left. Her head lolled and bobbed as the light in front of her became as dark as the two figures standing beside her. Somewhere in her mind, she knew it was an illusion. No one had turned the lamp off. The heat was still on her skin as it radiated from the bulb.

_No fucking way, Marcus. I am not going to apologize._ She knew that was what he wanted. He was trying to show how well trained she was. At this point, though, she was more than content to sit back and let him beat her into supposed submission. Casey already knew she wasn't verbally going to protest to him, but her silence would speak volumes in the bidders' heads. She was not some sort of animal to be sold from one man to the next. She was not an object of possession, either. Licking her dry, cracked lips, she opted for silence.

In less than a heartbeat, she felt as though she was flying. There was a scraping noise and a thud. A sharp pain exploded through her head as she realized the sound was the chair she had been tied to falling backwards to the stone floor. A moan escaped her despite her trying desperately to hold it in. "What do you say?" Marcus prompted. Casey spat on him. The last thing she felt before the blackness swarmed over her was the toe of his boot against her head.

//\

"Benson," I said as I flipped open my phone. Unlike Amanda, Steven-Marcus-whateverthehellhisnameis wasn't watching my every move to make sure I was out of contact. I knew because I had been tracking him for the last six days and every piece of evidence I found proved her alive despite the police mysteriously showing up to each crime scene to process it. Since Amanda's death, he had moved her a grand total of seventeen times.

It took me a moment to recognize the voice on the other end of the line. I hadn't slept in forty-eight hours and the sleep I had been getting over the past couple of weeks ranged from one to two hour cat naps after I literally collapsed from exhaustion. "El," I breathed, "Thank God. Did you find anything?"

"Liv, I think she's out of the tri-state area. A detective in Chicago called the office this morning. He said he was doing an undercover stint down there in a violent prostitution matter. He wasn't sure, but he thinks the woman he saw while working it was Novak."

I heard myself whimper and covered the speaker. I was too late to stop him from hearing it. "I know," he said, "but, Liv, I don't know if it's her or not. The detective was unable to send a photograph to compare. I think you're going to want to talk to him. Then, it's up to you if you want to go down there and talk to the department personally. His boss has already okayed it. Cragen's offered to personally pay for a plane ticket down there if you want to go, but talk to the detective, first. His name is Robert McBryans. I'll give you his number here in just a second."

I heard a crumbling sound on his end of the phone as I shakily made my way over to a bus bench. With legs like Jell-o, I somehow managed to sit down to the obvious displeasure of the obese woman already there. I knew I looked like a mess. By now, I was down to jeans and a loose t-shirt so I could conceal my weapon. My badge was in my back pocket. I hadn't gone to the police station since this whole ordeal began. The time I had spent at my apartment was minimal and the bags under my eyes testified to that fact.

"Got it!" Elliot sounded triumphant, and I knew he wanted this to work. I hoped to God it was Casey that was out there. He recited the number to me and I carefully scrawled it on the palm of my hand, tongue between my teeth in a feverish prayer. "Call him now. He said you can give him a call any time."

"Thanks, El," I murmured, "thank you." I clicked the phone shut and took a deep, unsteady breath. The bus pulled up and the great doors opened. Several people shuffled off and I watched them unseeingly. The woman beside me huffed and boarded, but I shook my head and the doors shut. Once the bus was out of view, I opened my phone and began dialing the number scrawled across my hand.

"Detective McBryans," came the curt reply after the third ring, "Twenty-fifth district." I noticed he didn't sound as if he was from Chicago and his 'th' sounded more like 'f'. He had a nice voice, a young one. I imagined he was younger then me, probably in his mid to late thirties. The image in my head gave him brown hair and warm brown eyes and I thought, if he lived up to that image, he made a good detective by looks alone.

"Hello, Detective McBryans, this is Detective Olivia Benson with the 16th precinct." I swallowed. "My partner informed me that you contacted him regarding a meeting with a possible kidnapping victim here in New York." I desperately wanted him to say yes and to tell me that Casey was alive. Alive was good. Even if she was scared or hurt, she could recover if she was alive.

"Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak," he said with a sudden wash of sorrow in his voice. I inhaled sharply, "Yes, I believe I have seen her. Detective, if at all possible, I would much rather you come down here so I can discuss this with you personally, but I understand that with the vaguest of possibilities that this woman is your missing person, I will need to divulge information with you. Is this a secure line?"

I nodded my head until I realized he couldn't see me. "Yes, it is." I wouldn't be saying anything important for someone to overhear and there was no one else in the vicinity.

"I was placed in a temporary undercover unit here in the 25th in response to unusual activity in a long-time abandoned warehouse. Research showed it to be the possible site of a human trafficking ring. However, the people on the lot are not trespassing as they have apparently leased out the lot." Oh God. I sucked in my breath and held my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from sobbing. "After myself and one of the other detectives infiltrated the building, we discovered ten separate rooms, each one housing an imprisoned female and a man or woman selling the victim to one of the bidders in the room."

I heard him pause and I knew the woman he had seen was in bad shape. Suddenly, I found myself praying that it wasn't Casey. "Go on," I prompted when his end of the line fell silent.

"The woman in question looks little like the picture I have seen on the news, but there was a striking familiarity to her that I felt it prudent to call. Detective Benson," he said and I knew he was trying to break the news easy. The tone of his voice matched mine when I spoke to the families of children who reported being sexually assaulted- or were found dead after being reported missing. "The woman I saw was emaciated and incoherent. If nothing else, I don't think she's feeling as much pain as she could be given her state. Despite he condition, she remained extremely defiant to David- the man pawning her. I'm uncertain as to how to describe her captivity to you, but she's been very obviously beaten. When I arrived, she was tied to a chair with an extremely bright lamp only a couple of feet from her face."

I couldn't hide it this time, I squeaked and sobbed, my hand moving to my chest. "Did this David say anything to her or to you?" I asked. I didn't want to know, but I had to justify going down there to find her. Alex and Elliot aside, Casey was one of my best friends. And, we had become close enough to be sisters since the rapes began several months beck.

"There were other men there," he said, "and we were addressed primarily as a group. She was addressed at one point as 'Casey' before David tipped her chair over and kicked her until she was unconscious. I arrived back at the police station two hours ago. My unit along with several patrol officers and SWAT officers from this district as well as the twenty-fourth and the seventeen districts are prepared to take the place out once our warrant comes back. A rush was placed on the warrant, but, unfortunately, the least time it takes for a warrant to be signed is typically twenty hours. If you arrive before we leave, we'll take you in the van with us. However, you will not be able to make entry with us. Once we have the building secure, we'll escort you in. It sounds to me as if you are very attached to this victim. If this woman is her, I imagine she will be as grateful to see you as you will be to see her."

"Thank you, Detective," I murmured, my voice small even in my own ears, "I'll be down on the next available flight. I'll phone you when my plane leaves and when it lands."

"I'll make certain there is a police escort waiting for you."

I hung up the phone without anything more. I was going down there even if I had to pay out of my own pocket. I held down the '5' button until the silence merged into a ring. "El," I said as soon as the phone was picked up, not even waiting for the 'hello', "I'm going down there. The woman he saw, her name is Casey. I've gotta see if it's her. I'm leaving on the next flight. Can you drive me to the airport?"

"Sure, Liv," he answered, his voice unsteady. I knew, from that alone, that I sounded like a wreck. "Hang on a sec, kay?" The phone went silent. Nearly ten minutes later, he picked up his phone again. "Liv, you still there?" I made a noise. "Okay. You're flying standby. The next flight is in five hours, so I'll pick you up from wherever you are and you can grab a change of clothes from your apartment and anything else you need."

"Okay." I made to hang up my phone.

"Uh… Olivia." His distant voice as I moved the phone from my ear drew me back. I made a noise of acknowledgement. "Where _are_ you?" I looked up at the bus stop and rattled off my location. Once he was satisfied, I hung up the phone and set it in my lap. I was going to kill that bastard.


	20. Never Let You Go

**Chapter 19: Never Let You Go**

"Detective McBryans," I greeted as I stepped from my flight. I didn't know how I knew it was him, but I did. Oddly enough, he fit the description my mind had created for him when I had first heard him speak. He was a little on the lanky side and I wondered just how deceptive that was. "Olivia Benson, NYPD."

I had a back pack with a change of clothes for me and a pair of sweat pants and a shirt for Casey, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, and some deodorant; I wasn't expecting to stay too long. I figured I'd shack up in a Motel 6 somewhere if I needed to stay the night. I hoisted my bag higher on my shoulder and showed him my credentials. My gun had been packed in a little box and flown over with me as a checked item since I had no reason to fly while armed. I would have to pick it up from Carousel Eight. I looked around. The sooner we left, the sooner we could rescue Casey- I had, by now, convinced myself without doubt that the woman McBryans spoke of was Casey.

"Detective," the man replied, "I'm glad you made it. I wish I could make your acquaintance under different circumstances. We have an hour to get to the warehouse. Someone called our judge and pushed the warrant through. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?" Unsurprisingly, I didn't. But, I could reasonably guess who had put the pressure down here. Arthur Branch wanted his ADA back as much as I did. I shook my head. It was best to be or pretend to be in the dark.

"Your partner faxed me a picture of the perp and the vic-"

I cut him off. "Casey. Her name is Casey." Marcus could be crap in the junkyard for all I cared. Hell, I was content in calling him 'that fucking bastard' but Casey was Casey and I wasn't in the mood to be argued with.

Sensing that, he amended. "-And Casey a couple of hours ago. The perp appears to be out suspect as well, but I'm still not one hundred percent certain that the two women are the same. But, I am more than fifty percent sure in my own mind by appearance alone. Given that the perps are the same, I imagine the woman you're looking for is the same as well."

I nodded my head. We had been walking to baggage claim as he spoke. Typically, I would have waited until reaching the car to divulge such information, but I was not from Chicago. And, this young detective looked as excited and anxious as I felt. Were it not for pure experience, I would not have been able to hold back the questions burning in my chest. "I have to pick up my gun," I said as I watched the signs and steered myself independently.

He gestured in apparent understanding of my slight change of topic. "Alright, but we have to be quick about it. The warrant made a record in being signed so quickly and I would guess you want to be there when it's executed."

I gave him a sad, Cheshire grin in response. Marcus, the asshole, was mine when he was extradited back to New York. And, he would be. Casey Novak's picture and story had been on the news both in state and nationally a good deal of times in the past week. It had seemed like a positive idea. Marcus would have a hard time killing her and being discrete about it afterwards because her photo was so engrained now in people's minds. That, and it was inevitable that her story would be leaked to the press. Arthur simply used that inevitability to his advantage.

"I failed her before," I said, my voice stony and frightening even to my own ears, "I'm not going to fail her again." I saw his jaw muscles tighten, but he offered no response. We must have been on the same level of understanding. I had told him exactly how I knew Novak and what my role in the case had been over the phone while Elliot was driving me to the airport.

//\\

Olivia Benson of the one-six was out of her element as she sat in the back of a van parked in a vacant lot in front of a warehouse in the twenty-fifth district in Chicago. She had ridden to the site with SWAT and though she couldn't see them, she could hear the patrol officers, detectives, and officers from other districts who surrounded the building as backup. There was a SWAT radio in her lap, given to her so she could hear what was going on. The officers had been inside for a half hour but it felt like an eternity.

Twisting her hands, Olivia tried to lean back against the side of the van, but the tension in her shoulders wouldn't let her without pain coursing through the muscles. She knew she was being a wuss for it. Casey had endured so much more. But, she couldn't force herself to lean back. Leaning meant that she was relaxing, and she couldn't relax. Not until Casey was home and safe. Pulling her upper lip between her teeth, she nibbled and chewed on it to release some of the anxiety.

"Clear," rang out on her radio, "eight suspects in custody. Someone get the detective and have her meet us at the ambulance." Olivia's eyes went wide. She hadn't known there were ambulances in the vicinity. She figured that made sense because there would be a lot of girls needing medical aide. She guessed the detective the SWAT officer was talking about was her and she steeled herself for whatever she might see.

The back door to the van opened and she looked up, squinting in the brighter light of the sun. "Olivia," Robert said- they had dropped the formalities on the ride over, "we think we have her, but you're going to have to help us get her out of there. She won't let anyone touch her and keeps insisting that she's waiting for 'Olivia to find me'. I think she means you, but she appears to have no idea who she is or where she is."

Swallowing, Olivia rose on shaking legs to step out of the van. Understanding her lack of balance, Robert held her hand while she jumped down and caught her arm as she steadied herself. "Thanks," she muttered once she had found her legs. Trying not to show her utter fear, she walked beside the Chicago detective as another officer opened the door to the warehouse to follow them inside.

The place was dark and smelled stale. There was a hint of blood and the lingering smell of vacancy. Whomever had leased the property- Olivia was sure it hadn't been Marcus- hadn't been there long. Putting a hand over her mouth, Olivia stepped through the hallway, over the debris from SWAT's entrance, and around those who were being escorted out in hand cuffs or on stretchers or in the arms of an officer. She coughed lightly from the lingering gases that had been let off, but they had dissipated throughout the building.

"Miss Benson," the officer turned to address her, "I'm telling you now that she doesn't look very good. I'm shocked that she's still conscious, but she's very much not together." Olivia sucked in a breath and the man opened the door for her to enter. The room was dark, but from the light in the hall, Olivia could see a lamp lying against the wall and shattered pieces of the bulb nearby. The woman licked her lips and steadied herself as the officer turned on his flashlight and shone it along the floor.

The back of the room consisted of a table with six chairs around it and a chair with a woman sitting on it. With the exception of the top three inches, her hair was a faded red, clumped together with blood and stringy. Her head was down and Olivia could hear the light sobbing sounds coming from her. She was wearing Olivia's NYPD shirt- the same one that she had worn the night she had slept at the station- and Olivia felt violated knowing Marcus had to have broken in to her apartment to retrieve it. Casey's hands sat in her lap, her wrists red and sore from where she had been bound.

"Casey," Olivia murmured softly as she approached. When she was close enough, she knelt down, resting a hand on the least torn of Casey's knees. At the touch, the woman jerked backwards, almost tipping the chair back. She didn't seem to realize she was free, or else she didn't know what to do now. Olivia reached up and caught the chair, holding it steady so it didn't fall.

"Please," Casey whispered, her voice dry and cracked. There was fresh blood at the corner of her mouth and her eyes were sunken into her gaunt, thin face. Olivia nearly cried out at how hollow looking and sounding Novak was. "Please don't hurt me."

Olivia pressed her lips together. Still in her crouched position, she looked Casey in the eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." She paused, hating the next question that would have to come from her mouth. "Do you know who I am?"

With a shake of her head, Casey confirmed what Olivia feared. She didn't recognize the New York detective. "Do you know your name?" Again, the answer was no. "Do you know who brought you here?" Tears were forming in Casey's eyes as she shook her head and Olivia wondered if it was because she was frightened or frustrated that she didn't know. Olivia imagined it was a little bit of both.

"Olivia is supposed to find me," Casey burbled, "but I can't remember who she is. She'll come, though. She always does." _If a little late_ Olivia thought as she reached up to gently push some hair behind Casey's ear. Her eyes were watching the woman's every move and taking in every injury she could see. Casey's knees and arms were scraped up and she had a matted knot of hair on one side where the blood had hardened. Her lip was cut and she had a bruise under her right eye.

"I'm Olivia," she said, swallowing the sorrow on her voice, "I'm Olivia, and I came to get you." Casey's eyes turned up to hers and the woman studied her as if trying to remember. Finally, she shook her head and shrugged. She didn't know the difference and Olivia's heart broke. "I'm here, Casey. I'm here and I'll never let you go again, do you understand that?" Her voice was gentle and Casey nodded her head. "Right now, you need medical attention. This officer is one of my friends and he's going to make sure you get looked at by the EMT. Does that make sense?" Casey nodded. "Will you let him carry you?"

That question made Casey jerk. She shook her head violently. "Please, no. He'll hurt me. Don't let him hurt me." Fresh tears began to flow from her eyes making Olivia wonder exactly what the woman had been through at the hands of a convict she had put in prison and the same convict who had posed as another man to get intimately close with her.

"He's not going to hurt you. I'll be with you the whole time to make sure he doesn't," Olivia reassured the trembling woman. She held out her hand and Casey slowly put her own in it. "I'll hold your hand, just like this, the entire time he carries you. Is that okay?" Casey wasn't relaxing, but she didn't refuse it either. Olivia would have carried the woman, but she knew that she was unsteady enough as it was from the sight. It was safer to allow the officer to carry her to the ambulance.

"Ready?" the officer's voice came as he bent a little. At Casey's nod, he slid his arms under her body and lifted her slowly from the chair. Casey cried out a little and squeezed Olivia's hand tighter. Tired, broken eyes met with Olivia's in a silent plea. Gently, Olivia squeezed back in reassurance and walked out with her.

As the bright sunlight hit their faces, Olivia felt Casey's hand go limp and glanced down at the woman, not surprised to find the woman unconscious. Subtly, her fingers moved to the wrist to check the pulse. She could barely feel the heartbeat under her friend's flesh and swallowed as it slowly became more difficult to find. Worried eyes met with the officer's and he nodded. From the knowing look on his face, she guessed that Casey wasn't the only captive victim who had been treated in this manner. A slow tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto Casey's eyelid. "Please don't die," Olivia whispered, not wanting to admit that it was a possibility, "you're safe now. You can't die."


	21. All Fall Down

**Chapter 20: All Fall Down**

"Olivia," Robert's voice was becoming increasingly familiar to me. It was an irritating fact of course, but I was doing my best to ignore it. That my brain so easily recognized it was a sign, to me, that I had spent far too much time in Chicago and really needed to take Casey home. After the first three days, the nursing staff had moved Casey's unconscious form from the ICU to the regular wards. I hadn't slept during those seventy-two precious hours while her life was literally being held in the hands of some very careful doctors. Casey hadn't stirred from her sleep or shown any signs that she would be pulling from her coma any time soon. I was only grateful that there was still brain activity. The bastard hadn't beaten her to a point of vegetation. When stimulated, she did react, though she didn't wake. At least she was stable.

The Chicago detectives had taken to Casey. I figured it was the national attention her case was receiving and the fact that only properly badged visitors were allowed into her room. However, it left an array of fresh roses, daffodils, violets, orchids, and countless other flowers scenting her room. The smell was strong enough to make me gag, but they were flowers of true concern. Yesterday, though, I had barked at the detectives to start putting their money to good use, like catching the asshole that did this. Of all the people arrested that day, Marcus had not been one of them. I figured he was already in another state, what with the charges he faced. But, I kept my hopes up that he would turn up in lock up one day and the poor officer who arrested him would recognize him. He had a warrant out for his arrest, too. Actually, two. One for Casey's kidnapping and the other for Amanda's murder.

"I brought some coffee for you," Robert offered as I looked up. I knew I had tired looking eyes. I had been spending every moment possible at the hospital. Once the nurses and doctors figured out that I wasn't going away, they finally let me stay with Casey well into the night. Granted, I went back to the Motel 6 I was staying at for a cheap forty bucks a night to shower and clean myself up. I catnapped at the hospital. I couldn't sleep unless I was with Casey. She had depended on me to rescue her. Now, I depended on her to keep me sane. I could feel myself already loosing it. We would both need a lot of therapy after this, her much more than I.

"Thanks," I said as I reached for the offered Styrofoam cup. It smelled exactly how I had come to associate life with smelling. I didn't used to be a big coffee drinker, but since working SVU, I'd become an addict. Even more so with Casey's kidnapping. I shuddered involuntarily. It was born of both the cold in the hospital and my imagination working on what might have happened to the poor woman. I barely tasted the coffee as it slid down my throat. With shaking fingers, I put it aside. Glancing over to Casey, I ran my fingers through her newly cleaned hair. She had two cracked ribs, her left arm had been broken and the wrist sprained, the laceration over her sternum had reopened on the way to the hospital and had required stitching. When the officer had put her on the gurney, I caught sight of the blood between her legs and had to swallow. A rape kit had been done, but I guessed it was all Steven's handiwork. Casey had lived one of the worst SVU cases I had seen or heard of and I'd be damned if she was going to die now.

Robert shifted uncomfortably behind me and I turned my attention to him. "Olivia," he started his voice slow and calculating. I realized that was how I spoke right before I broke bad news to the victims. I swallowed but found myself unable to say anything. "I sent the rape kit DNA samples to the lab and put a rush on it. I just received them back this morning." He paused as if to ask if I wanted to know the outcome. I simply stared blankly until he went on. "There were seven different DNA samples, and that was only in the past forty eight hours. If she was with this guy for longer, there's no telling how many men raped her. The suspect, Marcus Carnin, wasn't among the DNA samples identified, and, I checked, he's in the system. Three of the seven were also in the system. I asked a judge to issue warrants for their arrest and my officers are on it. The other four came back with no matches, but we'll keep looking."

I knew he was waiting for me to speak, but I was too busy struggling with the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. Finally, I relented and allowed them to fall as I turned my face back to Casey. Partially because I wanted to look at her, mostly because I didn't want him to see me cry. "He wouldn't rape her," I heard myself say, though I had no control over it, "he is so disgusted by her. She prosecuted him once, you know?" I laughed in an attempt not to sob, but the sob followed anyway. "She ripped him a new one in court. When he paroled, he changed his look and picked up an alias and started dating her. I shoulda known better, but I didn't. If I had, she wouldn't be here today."

His hand touched my shoulder. "It's not your fault, Olivia. You can't blame yourself for it. Carnin wanted something and he took advantage of both you and Casey to get it. Whether you want to admit it or not, you're as much a victim in this case as your friend is. She's stable now, she'll pull through. She just needs rest, nutrition, and your love. And, she has all three." Without thinking, I put my hand on her stomach over the sheet and the nightgown. I could distinctly feel her ribs beneath the wrap. With a sigh, I picked up her bony hand and held it in mine. All I wanted was for her to wake up. I wanted to hug her and feel her hugging me back. After an hour of sitting with her in silence, I had started talking to her, telling her how much I missed her, how glad I was she was safe, how much Branch missed her, how much the squad missed her, that things weren't the same when she wasn't around, that the other ADAs didn't really care like she cared, telling her over and over that I loved her and she needed to come home. She was like a sister to me and letting her go without a fight was not an option. It never would be.

"You hear that, Case," I murmured under my breath, "he says you gotta come through. I'll protect you no matter what, Case; you just gotta come back to this side of things. No matter what, got it?" There was no response, and, while not shocked, I was sincerely disheartened. I rubbed her arm. "Whenever you're ready to come back, I'll be right here waiting." I blinked another tear back and wiped my face with the back of my free hand. There was something so innately wrong about this entire situation, like it was some sort a very bad dream that I just needed to wake up from, as if this weren't reality and this was only my subconscious fears of loosing the people I was close to. But, if it were a nightmare, it was far too long and far too detailed.

I sucked in my breath as I heard footsteps thudding on the pristine linoleum flooring. Not daring to let go of Casey's hand, I looked up again. Robert had backed up a few steps and was waiting with his arms behind his back near the corner of the room like a protective guard. _That's my job_, I thought with unease. I knew I was being unreasonably territorial, but I couldn't help it any more. I'd never seen Casey so vulnerable as I had in the past six months and it was killing me. My attentions turned to the doctor standing nearby. "Miss Benson," he said, his voice kind. I wished it weren't a part of his training to make himself seem so trustworthy. I didn't trust doctors myself. Granted, some of them were honest in their sincerity. Others had to practice it. "I'm considering Miss Novak's condition stabilized, as we already discussed. I'm very impressed that she's functioning on her own, now. It was very touch and go while she was hooked up to the machines. However, I can't see any improvements on her comatose state and it seems unlikely that she will improve here in the next couple of days. Perhaps it will be best for you to go home yourself and get some real rest. I can give you a call when she wakes up."

Practically snarling at the man, I scooted my chair closer to Casey's bed. "I'm not leaving Chicago without her, Dr. Ferman," I snapped. I hadn't slept in forever and was liable to snap at anything that spoke. He just happened to be there when I crashed. "I'm here until she wakes up and is deemed capable of flying so I can take her back to New York and help her get her life back together after that fucking asshole tore it apart." I stood up, briefly pressing Casey's cold hand to my chest to help comfort myself. I felt my fingers subtly find her pulse. It was strong and steady. Now, I just had to call my Captain and tell him my plans. I figured he wouldn't order me back right away, but I also guessed he would put a time limit as to how long I could wait with Casey for her to pull through. But, I'd made her a promise and I would argue with Cragen over keeping it. I would win, too.

"I wish this were a fairytale, Casey," I whispered once both men had left, "since when did everyone fall down in fairytales without being able to get back up? I hate the real world." I brought her skinny fingers to my lips and kissed them, tears I hadn't even realized I was crying falling on her nails like glistening drops of dew. "Sleeping Beauty, where's your prince? I'll bring him here for you if it means you'll wake up and smile again so I know you're gonna be alright." I wasn't used to being the one about to break down. No, that was a lie. I wasn't used to being the one in the middle of a break down. It made me feel guilty that Casey was in such worse shape than me and all I could do was cry because she couldn't cry for her pain and because I felt so much pain. I wanted to be angry right now and release some of that energy by screaming. But, I couldn't be angry. I could only feel hurt and it was so draining. "Just smile for me, Casey," I heard myself beg as I leaned over my lips touching her cheek, my tears making a wet spot on the pillow beside her.


	22. Peace

**Chapter 21: Peace**

"It's not all that bad," Casey muttered, her voice hoarse and cracking. She pulled a face as she tasted blood from her raw throat on the back of her tongue. There was a pad of paper on her lap and a pen in her good hand so that she could write messages to the people in her room since she wasn't supposed to be talking or else, as was happening, her raw wound wouldn't be able to heal. Like a cat, she slid her tongue beneath her teeth to rid herself off the metallic taste. Her efforts were in vain, but it brought a smile to Detective Benson's lips.

Two weeks in a comatose state had taken its toll on the older woman, and the prosecutor could see that etched in the tiny lines surrounding her eyes and, even deeper, in the iris mirrors of the woman's soul. Casey still felt at fault for causing such grief in the detective's life no matter how much Olivia protested to the matter. The woman had been in a conscious state of mind for a nearly two hours without complications. She hurt like hell even with the pain medication. The first person she had seen had been Olivia, sitting faithfully beside her bed, tears marking her fragile looking face. Casey had no idea where she was, but she at least knew the detective this time around. Casey's first words, "Olivia, am I dead?", had brought a look of such relief to Olivia's face that the lawyer had simply burst into tears. The two had cried together for several minutes before one of the nurses interrupted.

Casey sucked in a deep breath, wincing at the pain it brought to her sides where her ribs were still tender. At least, she reasoned, she didn't have to see the bruises that had apparently decked her body according to Olivia's testimony. And, the cut on her chest was a faint red line, the stitches having been removed while she was still out cold. If this was how much healing hurt, she was curious as to how much it had hurt being beaten into that state. However, it was not a fact she was keen on remembering any time soon. Everything regarding the incident with Marcus had been pushed out of her head. She could remember the rape. She remembered him pushing her down the stairs. She remembered loosing her baby. She remembered everything through Amanda's death. The woman was terrible, but Casey didn't think she had deserved to die. She had been so manipulated and warped by the men in her life, that Casey couldn't completely fault her. Not to the point of her deserving death.

Deciding against finishing her statement to Olivia, she popped the cap off the Sharpe in her hand, letting it drop to the floor because her other hand was in a sling and it hurt to even move the slightly swollen fingers of the broken arm. Olivia bent over to get it, but it had slipped under her chair and was too far for her to reach with ease, so she sat back up and looked at the words Casey was writing. _**I'm alive, and that's what counts. Right? Olivia, I'm so scared.**_ Casey's handwriting was loopy and shaky. She stopped long enough to tear the page off and crumple it under angry, frightened fingers. "What happened to me?" she whispered.

Olivia reached over and stroked Casey's head, careful of the tender spot that made Casey jerk so hard that she nearly fell out of the bed whenever someone accidentally touched it. Standing up, the older woman went after the pen cap. Casey watched her turn and bend down, picturing the strained look on her face as she swallowed to prepare to give her answer. Casey hated asking, but she didn't remember after Amanda's death. She had mentally blacked out as the frightened scream had ended with a sickening crunch. "I don't know, Casey," Olivia said. No one had told Casey yet about the rape kit coming back with seven samples. Olivia had wanted to be the one to do it, thinking it would be easier for both of the women that way. But, Casey wasn't aware of that fact as Olivia turned and clicked the pen back together. "You were in pretty bad shape. You didn't recognize me, but you were asking for me. You didn't let anyone touch you until I had assured you that I was Olivia. The detective down here who recognized you said you had been beaten in front of him, but he couldn't blow his cover to help you right then. When the SWAT guys carried you out after the warrant was signed, it looked like you were hit a lot."

Olivia had already filled Casey in on the timeline, where she was, and how she had gotten there. Now, though, Casey wasn't merely satisfied in that. She wanted to know everything. "You were holding my hand as he carried you out. You passed out as soon as we hit the sun." Olivia stopped, her throat looking tight as she swallowed. Casey bit her lip, feeling badly for asking Olivia to relive something she obviously remembered so vividly. But, she didn't remember. She could see it effecting her, but she had no idea why. She pulled away at the touch of another. She held her breath when the doctors and nurses poked and prodded her. She cried every time a male walked into the room, the word 'please' squeaking through her lips before she could catch it.

"Casey, do you remember nothing about those days?" Her words were slow and Casey could see it was a fragile subject. If she could have, she would have sat straighter. As it was, she could only jerk in fear of what Olivia was leading into. The detective knew well that she couldn't remember. That she was asking was sign to the attorney that something was very wrong. A whimper escaped her lips at the shift in her ribcage, and she shook her head. "The doctors pulled a rape kit the moment you came in. There were seven samples." She was trying to be professional, but Casey could see the hard time she was having with it. Casey appreciated her restraint. Without Olivia's ability not to break down, Casey felt some strength to resist. There was anger in Olivia's tone, but there was sadness, too, and Casey swallowed. "Three suspects are in custody. Two of them confessed, both accusing Marcus of selling you to them for an hour at a time. The detectives here on the case speculate that, given the time you were missing and the men's testimonies, there were at least fifteen men who did that to you."

The ability to hear eluded her as a soft sob escaped her lips. Olivia's mouth kept moving, her words changing from what had happened to more soothing words. Casey didn't hear them. She hardly felt the hand on her head or Olivia's fingers move a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her vision was limited to the sorrow of Olivia's eyes and the imagination of how stony and blank she must look herself. Olivia was speaking. She could feel the soft breath of air as her words forced the substance from her lungs, but she had turned her head away. Tears fell freely down her cheeks, Casey making no effort to stop them. "I told her no," she muttered without realizing it, "I told him no. No. No. No. No. They never stop. Always. No. No." Her voice was a faint whisper as she turned her head away and tried to curl herself into the fetal position. Her raw nerves screamed as she twisted over a little, but she couldn't flip herself all the way to her side without putting herself in some extreme pain. Her ematiated body wasn't putting weight on very quickly and the intensity of having so little body fat only added to her agony. "I'm sorry, Olivia. It's my fault."

"Why?" Olivia asked, her voice finally penetrating the fog that had closed around Casey's mind. "Why do you keep saying it's your fault? You didn't ask for this. You didn't want it. You have never, never, never done _anything_ in your life to be so mistreated and hurt." Casey heard the hidden tears on Olivia's tongue, but she couldn't bring her head up to see. She didn't want to turn herself over to see. Shaking, Casey tried to bury herself deeper into the hard mattress and rough pillow. Part of her wanted to seek comfort. Part of her wanted to lock herself away so she couldn't feel the pain.

Casey whimpered as she curled her fingers, even the swollen ones on her broken arm, over the sheet and pulled it closer. Despite the shock wave of pain it caused, she pulled her knees closer to her chest and trembled. She felt the detective pull the sheets up when her efforts produced no result and tuck them gently around her chin. "Please, Olivia," she begged, "kill me. If I'm dead, maybe he'll stop coming after me. Maybe the nightmares will stop and the pain will go away. Kill me. I want it all to stop. He's still out there. He's going to come back." Her voice dropped even lower, a feat Olivia didn't think was possible. "Maybe there'll be peace when I'm dead."

"Stop it," Olivia barked, "stop it. I'm not going to kill you and you better not take your own life. Casey, we're in this together." The ferocity in her voice subdued itself into the same pleading tone Casey had just used. "If he ever comes back, he'll have to go through me. And, the only way he'll hurt you is if I'm dead. I'm not dying before he does, either." It was a promise Olivia intended to keep. She'd hunt him down legally, but if he ever tried to hurt Casey again, she'd kill him in a heart beat and deal with the consequences later. Without asking, Olivia sat on the bed beside Casey, her arm limp as her hand rested on the young woman's shoulder. Carefully, she rubbed her hand over the cloth. Casey could feel how tense Olivia was in the motion, and, though she didn't relax, she didn't pull away.

"I don't wanna know anymore," she murmured, her voice quavering now on top of being rough and bruised, "I don't wanna know and I don't wanna remember." With a sigh of dejection, Olivia's motion over her arm stopped and the woman lay down beside her, pulling her close. Casey jumped and bit her lip, muffling the cry that followed. Olivia was her detective, her confidant the past few months, her rock, her friend, her sister. There was nothing to fear, and although touch was frightening to the instinctual part of Casey's mind, the logical part breathed a little easier knowing Olivia would protect her. Her fingers tightened again around the blanket. "Don't let me fall. I just want peace."

Olivia didn't respond for a long time, and Casey felt her rapid heartbeat slow down to match Olivia's normal pace. When Casey was calm enough, Olivia loosened her hug a little and relaxed beside her. Exhaustion sweeping over her, Casey didn't think she'd be able to stay awake much longer. Panic rose in her anew, but her muscles were too sore and her limbs felt too much like lead to fight the feeling. Instead, her eyes showed the anxiety she felt as they glanced around the room. Marcus didn't have to come back in person, Casey had realized, he'd always be in her dreams. She made a sound of protest to the thought, only to be met with a soothing noise from Olivia and the reassuring pat of the detective's fingers on her shoulder. "It'll be alright," Olivia murmured, "I'm here. No one will hurt you. Go to sleep."

Casey dozed off a little, feeling the black creep over her. The fear was too real, but the past two hours had been stressful and draining. Sleep sounded so incredible. The nightmares she feared she might have, of what she could remember or what she couldn't, scared Casey. With Olivia so close, though, there was someone she could wake up to, at least. Or, someone who would wake her up if she cried out. "I wish I could give you peace, Casey," Olivia murmured, obviously not realizing she wasn't quite asleep, "I wish I could make you whole again."


	23. Medical Terminology

_Thanks everyone for reading this. Enjoy._

**Chapter 22: Medical Terminology**

Casey had fallen asleep a half hour ago, having cried herself into exhaustion. A doctor had stopped by at some point, obviously looking to speak with his patient, but seeing her asleep and me curled protectively around her, he had left. His ears had been very red, too. I think he thought there was more than meets the eye but hadn't wanted to say anything. I had almost laughed once he had left, but Casey's sleeping form had stopped me. With the exceptions of one trip to the bathroom down the hall and another to the candy-bar machine in the opposite direction, I hadn't left Casey's room all day. The chair made my back ache and, at one point, it had made me so stiff that I had stretched out on the floor. A laughing nurse had brought me a small stack of magazines after she had walked in on that and I'd been curled up reading ever since.

A soft clearing of the throat brought my attention from an old People Magazine to the broad man framed by the hospital door. "Hi, Bobby," I whispered with a smile. Casey was awake. I know she had been upset, but I couldn't help smiling. At least she was alive. My brow knitted as the briefest thought of her wanting me to kill her crossed my mind, but I pushed it away. She was traumatized and torn between wanting to remember and wanting to forget. I couldn't blame her for wanting to die. Dying, however, was an entirely different story.

Robert gestured for me to follow him back out. Giving a tentative glance to Casey, I set my magazine down on the floor and stood. She seemed sound asleep now, though she had been sobbing in her sleep earlier, tiny whispers of please escaping from her. I had tried to wake her up, but as soon as I had touched her, she fell silent once more. Hoping she didn't wake up and freak out while I was gone or start having nightmares again, I walked to the hall with Robert. He leaned against the wall, a defeated look on his face. "Olivia," he began, his tone of voice making me swallow, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but one detective to another, we need to talk about Casey. We received the blood work back from our suspects today and I wanted to tell you and Casey both as soon as I found out, but I think maybe I should tell you first just in case."

I raised my brow in confusion. "And," I said. The blood work he was talking about was the STD blood work that all suspects of rape were checked for. Usually, when a victim was brought in to a hospital, they had blood work done, too, but since it was only with the victim's consent that they took the blood and Casey had been unconscious at the time, no one had drawn hers. I wondered if that had been what the doctor had come in for, having heard that the woman was awake to consent. I swallowed. He wouldn't be this vague or beat around the bush so much unless there was bad news.

Sure enough, my feelings were justified with his next words. "One of the suspects came back positive for the AIDS virus. Casey needs to be tested ASAP. The entire unit is praying for her that she wasn't infected." I nodded. He really was breaking a lot of rules telling me this since I wasn't Casey's family. And, once I got back to New York, I wouldn't be the detective assigned to the case. Technically, once Amanda had kidnapped Casey and made me hunt for her, I was off the case. One of the other SVU detectives was going to be questioning both me and Case about what happened. A prosecutor from another district would probably have to be brought in to prosecute since the victim had clear ties to the DA's office and the defense attorneys would have a fit.

"And, you want me to help you tell her," I said. It wasn't a question. I knew he would. I didn't know if I had the strength, after all this, to break more bad news to the poor girl. Casey had been through so much in a year and it really wasn't fair. I'd seen some bad cases, some very hurt children, but I'd seen very few cases that could even compare to the hell Casey lived. The only cases that I could think of were the human trafficking cases with children or women kidnapped from overseas and brought to the States. I leaned into the wall, my hands covering my face and slid down the wall. "What the hell is wrong with the world?"

His hand on my shoulder was comforting and I looked up into his eyes. They reminded me of Cragen's in their fatherly manner and I let out my breath as slowly as I could, but it still shook. "It's not fair," he said, "There are some things that should never be. What happened to Miss Novak is one of them. That it continues to be immediate despite her being out of his grasp is infuriating and unjust. I've spoken briefly with the District Attorney on the case. If it will help you, I can have her come down here and talk to the both of you as well. Appearance of Counsel is scheduled for tomorrow for all of them. They'll decide within the next week if they want separate trials or not. If you want, I can pick you up at nine and take you to the courthouse to see them. They were all remanded to the jail for pretrial detention so I imagine they won't be heard until nine thirty or ten. No earlier than nine, though."

I shook my head. "I'd rather stay here," I murmured, "but thank you. I'll talk to Case about having your DA come down here. She might not want to. I'd like to meet with her, though, find out what she thinks and what kind of pleas she might offer. I would hope none, but I would doubt that. I hope it doesn't go to trial, whatever happens. I don't think Casey could handle that if she were summoned to testify." Running my hands through my still short hair, I thought over the situation. I honestly believed in God. I kept believing in Him because even when bad things happened to good people, our unit helped make things right. I didn't know how to make this right for Casey. No one was ever the same after a rape incident. I had accepted this one had changed Casey. It had changed me and I knew the other detectives were affected. But, Marcus, even if we caught him, would still affect her. He could be in prison for twenty years and I had the feeling he would still be able to get to her.

From the room behind me, I heard a faint murmuring and rose. Casey was either slipping into a nightmare again or was waking up. I didn't want her to panic waking up. The nurses could sedate her if necessary. I knew because one of them had chastised me for not calling him in when Casey had first come to and had a panic attack. I'd dealt with her panic attacks for months now, and I was accustomed to handling them. In fact, I had grown too efficient for my tastes. I slid into the room as Casey let out a scream. It was incoherent noise except when she clamped her mouth shut. "-Via," she gasped, panting. I ran over to her side and put my hand on her shoulders. She was squirming and throwing herself around as if pinned beneath another. I didn't want to see her fall off the bed.

"Casey," I said, my voice loud but I wasn't yelling yet, "Casey, wake up. It's just a dream. It's a bad dream." I felt her nails on my arms and drag down my shirt. I flinched, they were so sharp. I was glad to be wearing long sleeves otherwise she probably would have cut me. "Wake up, Case, wake up." I felt Robert's presence behind me, but I hadn't heard him follow me in. He pressed the 'call' button beside Casey's bed before grabbing her shoulders from me on the other side of the bed. My hands went to her face, holding her cheeks. "Casey," I murmured, close to her, "Case, it's –Ivia. It's Olivia. Can you hear me? Wake up, sweetheart."

I felt a tear slip down my cheek as her eyes flashed open. She took one look at Robert and fought harder. I gestured hurriedly for him to leave. "Casey, look at me. Look at me. Ignore him. I'm here. No one will hurt you." She complied with a whimper and I bit my lip. Her hands grasped my wrists, her bony fingers cold against my warm skin. The cast still on her left arm felt strange given the thinness of her fingers. "I've got you," I reassured her, "I've got you and you aren't going anywhere. It was only a bed dream."

"Olivia," she moaned, "it was so real. I thought it was happening. It hurt so much. I can still feel it." She let go of my wrists and put her hands on her stomach. I stood back a little, giving her room to breath. Her eyes were still dilated and her breath was heavy. "It hurt. They hurt. There were so many faces, so many men. They touched me and took me and… and. Oh God, Olivia they never stopped." She was crying now, and I was crying with her. Robert had taken up station in the corner, just out of Casey's line of vision. My eyes met his for the briefest of moments. I couldn't tell her she needed an HIV test. Not right now.

I shushed her, tucking her mussed hair behind her ears. "They aren't here now, it's okay right now. We'll find the men who hurt you. I'll keep watch until we get them all." I sat down on her bed and watched her as she settled her nerves. "It's okay, Case." I picked up her hand. "Do you remember anything yet?"

She nodded her head. "I remember a lot of random things, but not all of it. There's a lot of faces, but they're all fuzzy. There's just so many and it hurts to think about them." She put her casted hand against her forehead and winced a little. I knew the look meant a headache was coming on. Pursing my lips a little, I sighed. The nursing staff had been called and failed to show up. Was it any wonder I never hit the call button?

And, as if they heard my thoughts, three young interns fresh out of med school came in. "Miss Novak," one of them asked, "are you alright?" Oh God. Here we go, I thought bitterly. Casey nodded her head, the tears still leaking out of the corners of her eyes. One of the more perceptive young bloods came to stand beside me and looked down at my friend. It was the same one who had asked the question. "Miss Novak, I'm glad to see you awake," he began, "if it wouldn't be much trouble, I would like to have a doctor come check up on you. There are a couple of tests he'd like to do." Casey was famous throughout the ward, and I knew the HIV blood work had gotten around to the interns already.

"Not right now, Dominique, "I murmured, "please. You have the kindest heart and the worst timing." I attempted a smile as Casey looked suspiciously over at me. "I… I need to talk with Casey alone for a moment." I had no choice now. The intern had brought it up and Casey would keep asking until either I gave her a straight answer or someone else did. I didn't want her to have to go to someone else. I sucked in the air as he nodded and the interns and the detective left, the detective shutting the door behind them all.

"Olivia," Casey said, her voice suddenly courtroom serious, "what's going on? What tests did the doctor want to take?" I heard the note of panic in her voice that wasn't there during a trial and I swallowed harder. "Oh God, I'm not pregnant, am I? I couldn't go through with that. Not, not after everything else. I'm sorry, Olivia, I couldn't." My eyes went wide. I didn't know if they'd given her a morning after pill or not. And, with the amount of time she had been missing, I didn't know if it would work or not. I resisted the urge to look at her charts and see what tests had been done, but it was hard.

"No one's told me if you're pregnant or not, Case. I… I can't imagine that you are." I thought about the beatings she had taken and the starvation and the abuse. Her body wouldn't allow the kind of energy it took to maintain a pregnancy even so early in the stage if the body itself needed all possible forms of energy to survive. It was possible she had conceived, but I doubted she'd gotten _pregnant._ I shook my head. "It's not that I'm worried about, though. Case, I… One of the men has AIDS. It's possible he gave you HIV. I would think that's the test the doctor wants. When you came in, it wasn't vital to draw your blood for testing since… since we weren't sure if you would make it or not. Once you made it and stabilized, we had to wait to see if you would wake up. They haven't drawn blood for anything yet, HIV and pregnancy included."

That Casey wasn't reacting outwardly concerned me. Her face had gone blank and she seemed to be struggling within herself as she tried to decide what to do or say. Tongue between my teeth, I waited for several minutes. To me, it seemed like hours. I couldn't imagine how slowly the six minutes ticked by for Casey. "I… I can't be," she whispered, "it was never a road I planned on going down. I can't be."

Denial I could deal with. At least she hadn't gone into a rage or completely withdrawn from me. "Casey, there haven't even been any tests done, yet. You may very well not be, but we have to find out first. No matter what the results are, though, I'll stick with you. Amanda and Marcus dragged us into this together. Even without them, I'll still stand by you, I'll still fight my hardest to protect you." I smiled at her. "Are you gonna let the doc take your sample?" She nodded and closed her eyes. I prayed this wouldn't end badly.


	24. Sinner's Shadow

_Um... short. Sorry about that. I woulda made it longer, but I figured a few of you might be curious as to how Casey's blood work came back. _

_-Lady_

**Chapter 23: Sinner's Shadow**

"Take it, Casey," Olivia prompted as she held out the ovular pink pill, "please. It's the last one." It was the second time today they had gone through this ordeal. Casey still wasn't ready to accept that she was now being prescribed three separate medicines and Olivia had been the one to try and get her medicines down her throat for the past two and a half weeks. Olivia held it out on the flat of her hand. Casey was refusing stubbornly. It made Olivia smile faintly because it was like trying to give a child cough syrup. Except Casey had more than just a cold that Olivia wished she could make her friend better from.

The young woman shook her head and pulled her blankets over her. Her New York apartment was empty of Casey's presence. She had been living with Olivia since returning to the big city. Marcus was still at large and Casey was too scared to sleep alone in an apartment. Olivia didn't blame her. She was just as terrified at having the woman be alone. Elliot had come over one night to spend some time with them. He had also stayed up half the night while Casey and Olivia slept. When Olivia had woken up, Elliot had gone to sleep. Neither woman had told the man about Casey's illness. Casey couldn't admit it to herself.

"Please," Olivia begged, "you remember what the doctor said. You have to take the medicine or you'll feel sick, too." The detective shook her head. "You've gotta take meds and eat food. You're so skinny. Please, please just take it. I'll take you to get a lunch at the café you like so much, but we can't leave the apartment until I know you've taken your Epivir. Casey, you're not a child." A low rumble of frustration entered Olivia's voice. She was sick of this same battle. She was sympathetic to the woman, but the medication could only help. "I want to help you, but if you won't help yourself."

Casey sobbed. "I can't. It means what they did to me was real. I've tried so hard to tell myself it didn't happen, it was all just a bad dream and now I'm waking up." A tear slipped from her eye and trailed down her cheek. Olivia sighed and put the pill on the table beside the couch. "I don't want it to have been real. I remember so much more than I did and the nightmares hurt so much. My muscles ache when I wake up." She was crying all out now, the tears running freely down her cheeks. It was the first time Olivia had seen her completely collapse into tears since the flight back from the Chicago hospital though she had heard her a couple of times over the running water of the shower.

Sitting beside the younger woman on the couch, Olivia wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a close hug. "Casey," she whispered, "I would take this all away from you if I could. I can't take it from you, though. The only thing I can do is help you deal with it and help you learn to relive with it. Case, it's not AIDS yet. It's still HIV. Please, please stop acting like you've already died and live again. If not for you, for me. I need you to be alive. You're one of my two best friends and my only sister. Marcus took part of you. He sold part of you. But, he didn't take all of you. I kept some of you with me and you, you're so strong. You kept a good deal of yourself even throughout everything he did to you. Keep fighting. You have to. It's not an option."

Casey clutched Olivia's shirt and turned her face to cry into the woman's shoulder. "Olivia," she muttered, her voice muted by the fabric, "I want nothing more to live, but he's amputated me. He's taken away the only pair of wings I had. I can't fly anymore and being grounded is like dying a thousand deaths because I watch so many happy women on the street holding hands with the men they love or talking with friends they hold dear. I can't find happiness in that anymore. I see them everyday, Liv, the men and women and children walking around without wings. How- how can they survive? It feels like my feet have been tied with blocks of cement. My hands, too, and I'm down like a dog on all fours but I can't, I can't, pick my feet up at all."

Casey moaned as Olivia soothed the woman. "That's why I'm here. I'm here to help you pick up your feet. That's what we're all here for. That's how those men, women, and children survive. They have friends and family who help them carry some of the weight." Olivia sighed into Casey's hair. "Casey Novak, I know you can pull through this. I've seen you pull through so much. You can do this. And, whenever you need another to lean on, lean on me." She combed her fingers through Casey's hair, rocking slightly to help calm the now blonde woman calm down. Casey hadn't returned to work yet. Olivia wondered if the woman was going to quit- or if she already had. No one would blame her for not wanting to go back. Branch had, more likely, given her a few months to regroup. It would probably be without pay, but it was a good gesture. Olivia honestly didn't think Casey should go back to the SVU prosecution unit. Maybe she'd go back to ECU, but SVU would only reopen wounds and scars.

"Case, hon," she murmured after nearly ten minutes, "will you please take it?" Olivia reached behind her to pick up the 3TC pill and held it out in her hand. "It's the last time I'll ask. If I have to again, I'll just crush it up into a drink or something and you'll take it without knowing." That earned an honest smile from Casey, but the woman, nevertheless, curled into her too familiar fetal position on the opposite end of Olivia's couch. Olivia smiled faintly at the lawyer and the woman finally reached over to take the pill from her hand. Olivia sighed in relief, relaxing back into the couch.

Inspecting the pill closely, Casey wasn't hiding the fact that she was avoiding saying anything to Olivia. Her intensity of interest in the little pink thing was a little too much to satisfy the detective. After an entire minute of turning the pill over and over, Casey looked up. "It's not going to save my life," she said, "though I suppose I really don't deserve anything to save my life anymore. I don't deserve you or your friendship. I don't deserve life. I don't even know if I deserve the peace of death anymore. Maybe I'll deserve death if I go to Hell, but not otherwise."

She shook her head and moved to put it on the table, but Olivia stretched out and grabbed Casey's wrist. "Hell is how you make it, Case," the detective muttered, "what you're doing to yourself right now is making your life even more miserable and Hellish. You deserve everything that could possibly be offered to you and then some. True, the pill won't save your life, but it'll help make living more comfortable. You're _living _with HIV. You're not dead, and you're certainly not dying." Casey stopped trying to pull her hand from Olivia. She'd had the cast off now for a couple of days and it was still in a sling, so Olivia imagined it had hurt a little to struggle. "I'm sorry I grabbed your wrist, but I can't sit here and watch yourself make your life more uncomfortable because he manipulated and hurt you so much. Case, you're like my littler sister. My wise-ass, intelligent, stubborn, prosecutor sister, but my sister. I can't let you punish yourself for crimes you didn't commit."

Casey met Olivia's eyes for the briefest of moments before she slid the pill in her mouth, swallowing it dry despite the glass of water the detective offered. Olivia set the glass down on the coffee table and sighed. Casey opened her mouth to show the woman that she had swallowed the pill. It had been something Olivia had requested since Casey had spit her first three doses out and thrown the pills away. This time, though, the lawyer gave Olivia a look of sarcasm and distaste, though her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "Thank you, Casey," Olivia said, ignoring the look, "thank you. It means a lot that you want to live. And, more than that, you want to thrive. Now, I'm hungry and I promised you your favorite café. Shall we walk or take a cab?"

"Because of that, we'll take a cab," Casey said with dry humour, "and you can pay. Then, since lunch is your treat, I'll order the most expensive thing on the menu." Olivia laughed, and in seeing that it was still okay to laugh, in some weird warped way, Casey joined her. "I'm serious."

"It's a deal." Olivia smiled and hooked her arm in her friend's and led her out of the apartment building. Olivia had called the café several days ago and reserved the entire place for a little party she hadn't told Casey about. Since the woman had been in a coma over her birthday, Olivia had decided to throw her a little bash. Not knowing Casey's relationship with her family, though, Olivia and Elliot- her co-conspirator- had arranged that the SVU unit as well as the DA staff be there. Some, because they were working, couldn't make it for the entire afternoon, but had promised to stop by to say hello. Olivia was really looking forward to the event and Casey's questioning look must have meant she was grinning. The detective tried to hide it and failed miserably.


End file.
